Racing Towards Tomorrow
by Brisingr364
Summary: Charles is running for president of the U.S. When he and his sister start receiving death threats, Erik is assigned to his protective detail. Erik not only has the trouble of keeping Charles alive but also fighting his growing feelings. Charles has no problem fighting his feelings but can he break through Erik's walls and win the election at the same time?
1. Chapter 1

**I'm a US citizen but I am taking a few liberties with the political process for the sake of the fic. Also, apologies to anyone who speaks German; I used Google Translate (all translations to English are in the story right after anything that's supposed to be in German). That being said, hope you enjoy :D**

* * *

Erik knocked on the door and poked his head in. "You wanted to see me, Director?"

"Ah, Erik. Good. Come in."

Erik closed the door behind him and dropped into the chair across the desk from the Director of the United States Secret Service, wondering if there was perhaps something amiss that he should be concerned about.

Director Jeffrey Mason studied him for a minute in silence before saying, "Now, I know you've only been back in the States for a few days, Erik, but I have an urgent assignment that I think is a perfect fit for your talents." He paused a moment. "One of the presidential candidates has been receiving death threats—rather specific and violent ones—and we've been tasked with providing him with additional protection. You and your team will protect him and his immediate family member, should you agree."

Intrigued, Erik leaned forward and picked up the folder that Mason slid over. Flipping it open, he was treated to a profile picture of a young man with short brown hair and piercing blue eyes, even from a photograph. Name: Dr. Charles Xavier. _Hmm_ , he thought, _that name sounds familiar_. But he couldn't place it. Scanning the files, the name didn't click until he reached the Occupation line. "The gay teacher?!" The words burst out of him. " _That's_ who you want me to protect? He's a joke!"

"Seeing as you're gay yourself, I don't see the problem," Mason replied dryly.

Erik had told the director a couple years ago, after a mission had nearly been compromised because of his partner. The mission was barely saved. After that, the director gave such missions to other agents, and Erik was assigned the more solitary or dangerous missions. Now, though, Erik frowned. The man's sexual orientation didn't matter to him; it might to the voters but that wasn't his concern with the man. "Xavier doesn't have the backbone needed to run a country."

The director shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Not our job to judge; just to follow orders. And the President has asked for our help on this one. Xavier and his sister need our protection, no matter what your opinion of him is."

"Sister?"

"Raven. Her file is in there as well."

Erik flipped through the information again, thinking. "Shouldn't the local police be handling this?"

Mason nodded. "They are working on figuring out who's behind the threats, but you and I both know that they're ineffective when it comes to protection."

Erik nodded once. That was a given. "You said team. Who will I be working with? Should I choose to accept."

The director quirked an eyebrow. "Both of the Summers brothers, Grey, and Salvadore."

Okay, he knew Scott and Alex Summers, had worked with the brothers before. They were good, he knew and they got along well enough. Grey….must be Jean, Scott's fiancé. That was the only agent with that last name that he knew of. He'd never actually met her but had heard plenty of good things. Salvadore, however, was an unknown. "Salvadore?" he inquired pointedly.

The director nodded. "Angel Salvadore. But you probably know her as Tempest?"

Now _that_ name rang a bell. Tempest was one of their best undercover agents. Erik flipped through the files again, weighing the pros and cons. Good team, easily split up to protect both clients…but Xavier? Erik got a sour taste in his mouth just thinking of the guy. President Xavier. Didn't bear thinking on. Maybe he could get close enough to the teacher, convince him this was a bad idea, that remaining a teacher was better. Abruptly making up his mind, Erik closed the folder and said, "I'll take it."

"Good. You fly out in the morning. I've already informed the team since they would have remained even if you'd refused." Erik nodded; made sense. Mason continued, "They're in the bull pen if you want to say anything before you head home to pack. Airplane tickets for all of you, rental car information, address, and any information about the siblings you might need are all in that folder."

Erik nodded and got up to leave. He was almost out the door when the director called him back.

"Oh, and Erik? Whatever your reasons for accepting this are, remember: your first priority is their safety."

Erik didn't respond, instead closing the door and walking down the hall. The director seemed to always know what he was thinking at times like this, although he rarely called him on it. Tucking the folder under his arm, he rounded the corner and stabbed the elevator button. He'd send the girls to guard the sister, keep the brothers for Xavier himself. He stepped inside and hit the correct level, mentally working out logistics. Protocol dictated that at least one of them remain at Xavier's side at all times, the visible guard. Reluctantly, Erik realized that, as team leader, he was automatically that person. " _Ich hasse diese verdammte abtretung schon_ ," (translation: _I hate this fucking assignment already_ ) he muttered to himself as he exited the elevator. And who knew how long it would take for the inept police to find the person or persons responsible.

He shoved open the door to the bull pen and found the four of them gathered around a desk. Alex saw him first, waving. "Hey, Erik. Come to gather the troops?" Alex joked.

"If you're the only recruits, Alex, then I'm screwed," Erik replied in like. "Scott."

Scott nodded. "Hi, Erik. When did you get back?"

He shrugged. "Couple days ago."

"And already a new assignment? That majorly sucks." Alex elbowed him lightly.

Erik ignored him and turned to the girls. The redhead was next to Scott, so clearly that was Grey. Which meant that the Latina was Tempest. Huh. _Younger than I thought._ He held out a hand. "Erik Lensherr."

The redhead glanced at Scott briefly then returned the handshake briskly. "Jean Grey."

The Latina gave him a flirty smile as she took his hand. "Angel Salvadore, aka Tempest. I'm sure you've heard of me."

 _Oh yeah, definitely sticking her with the sister._ He'd put her in the same role that he was stuck in with Xavier. He handed the folder to Scott. "Info on our clients; pass it around. Basic information: Dr. Charles Xavier, mid-thirties, college professor, single, gay, on the receiving end of some pretty grossly specific death threats. President has ordered additional protection, which is where we come in." Erik spoke as the files were handed around, but he knew they were also listening to him. Agents were trained to multitask; plus they'd have ample time for review on the flight. "Xavier's sister is also at risk: Raven Xavier, late twenties, college student, single, straight, possible target to get to Xavier. I will be team leader; Scott, Alex and I will be guarding the doctor himself; Jean and Angel will be guarding the younger sister. Any questions so far?"

Jean asked, "What time do we fly out and where are we going?"

"Flight leaves from Dulles at 6:53 a.m." He ignored the groans. "And we're headed to New York. Manhattan area. Xavier teaches science at Columbia University; Raven attends FIT for fashion design and merchandising." They all nodded. "Detail is for an as-yet-undetermined amount of time, so prepare to be there a while."

Scott caught his eye. "Should be interesting, at the least." He handed the folder back.

Erik added one last thing. "Go home, eat, sleep, pack. I'll see you at the airport at 5:30 tomorrow morning."

* * *

Kicking the door shut behind him, Erik flipped the light switch on the wall so he didn't trip on anything. He generally knew where everything was but he had been out of the country for a while and hadn't really cleaned since he'd been home. Not that he was going to bother with it now, not when he had to leave in a few hours. He dropped everything on the couch, grabbed his leftover Chinese from the refrigerator and stuffed it in the microwave.

Heading to his bedroom, he dragged a suitcase from the bottom of the closet and plopped it on the bed, open. Erik quickly packed a few changes of clothing, casual and official, before he heard the microwave _ding_ and headed back to the kitchen. Shoving his coat aside with a foot, Erik settled on the couch for the evening news. He wondered if Xavier would be mentioned. An hour later, there had been nothing on the race so he shut it off and went to finish packing.

Usually, Erik only packed one bag because he was rarely gone for more than a week, two at the most. This assignment, though, seemed like it would take a few weeks, possibly a couple months. So he reluctantly pulled out his emergency to-go bag and added that to the pile. He kept things generic: plain turtlenecks because the weather was growing colder, heading into the middle of September as it was; jeans; khakis; dress pants; button-down dress shirts; suits; ties; pajamas; a couple pairs of workout clothes…that all went in the suitcase. To his to-go bag, he added all of his weapons and gadgets. Until he got a look at the threats, he was preparing for any and all contingencies and hoped his team was doing the same.

Once done, he leaned the bags against the wall and got ready for bed. He wanted to be at the airport before the others.

* * *

Erik had to bite back a grin as he saw his team arrive. Scott and Jean looked awake but Alex was clearly barely conscious. "Was he even awake when you left?" Erik teased Scott.

Scott grinned as his brother collapsed onto a bench, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Conscious enough to complain about what time it was. Now, I'm not so sure. Sleepwalking, perhaps."

Jean lightly slapped him on the shoulder. "Scott, be nice. You didn't exactly want to get up, either."

Erik rolled his eyes. "Where's Salvadore?"

"Here, darling!" Angel strolled up, her two suitcases—matching set—behind her.

He shot her a glare. "Don't call me that." She shrugged and he stood up. "Come on, we still have to get our bags checked."

Alex mumbled, "What about our guns?"

They all looked at him, surprised. Erik thought he was asleep. Scott threw Erik a look. "He's got a point. I'm sure we're all packing; how are we gonna get through security?"

" _Verdammt_. (translation: _damn it_ ). Did you all bring your badges?" Nods all around and a snort from Alex's direction. "Then there's no problem." His tone indicated that he thought that was a stupid concern. "Let's go." He turned and walked away, not caring if they followed or not.

Thankfully, they made it through security with little problems, bags checked, and they were seated. Once the plane took off, Erik leaned his chair back a bit, stretched his legs out and closed his eyes. "Wake me when we're about to land," he told Alex, sitting next to him.

Alex was already engrossed in a comic. "Sure thing, bossman."

* * *

An hour and a half later, Erik led them through the terminal of La Guardia toward the rental car station. The young woman looked up as he approached. "Hi," she said brightly. "Do you need a car?"

"I have two reserved."

"Oh." She blinked. "Do you have the paperwork?" He set it on the counter and she took it, reading through it quickly. She typed something into her computer and said, "Okay, be right back."

Once she left, Scott leaned in and said quietly, "Two?"

"One for him; one for the sister," Erik explained in a like tone. Scott nodded and the girl came back, her smile not nearly as bright as before.

"Okay, the cars are being brought around front, I just need you to sign this paper indicating that you picked them up and that the rental time length is correct." Erik glanced at it perfunctorily. They had two cars for as long as needed; paid for already. He signed and headed outside.

Two cars pulled up as he stepped out into the bright fall morning, his breath ghosting on the air in front of him after the warmth of the terminal. "Chevy Tahoe? Oh man, is that going to stick out!" Alex complained.

Jean replied, "Think of it more like a minivan for soccer moms. It's more inconspicuous than you think. Especially since neither one is black."

"Yeah, all right. I'll give you the color, but, come on: a Tahoe?"

Erik took the keys from the rental guys with a nod and tossed a set to Scott. "Take the red one. And your brother. I don't feel like listening to his complaints all morning. Salvadore, Grey, with me in the blue one."

They all managed to fit their gear in the trunks and piled in. Erik checked with Scott that he had Xavier's address, programmed it into his own GPS and pulled away from the curb.


	2. Chapter 2

Charles rushed back and forth, trying to collect his things. Class started soon and he really should have left ten minutes ago but he couldn't find his notes. Still couldn't, as a matter of fact. "Where in the world did I put them?" he muttered to himself as he lifted books and flipped through piles of papers.

Then, of course, the phone rang. He ignored it; he'd just had a flash of where his notes might be and was rummaging through his bookcase. It kept ringing, finally switching to the answering machine after five rings.

 _Beep._ "Dr. Xavier, this is Agent Lensherr, from the United States Secret Service here to..."

Charles dived for the phone, picking it up as the person on the other end continued talking. "Hello, I'm sorry, just let me buzz you up." He hit the button on the phone and hung up, going back to the bookcase to restack his books. He'd found his notes stuffed into an old organic chemistry textbook. Emma's visit the night before had thrown him slightly. She still didn't like that he refused to give up teaching, but honestly, if he lost the race what else was he going to do with his life? And he truly enjoyed teaching young people.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts and he was seconds away from unlocking it when he remembered Raven's admonishment to check and winced when he realized he hadn't actually made sure that the agent on the phone was indeed an agent. The person knocked again and Charles looked through the peephole.

Five people stood in the hall; three men and two women. A young Latina woman who looked like she couldn't be much older than Raven; a young redheaded woman, possibly his age; a brown-haired man, also possibly his age; a younger-looking blond version of him, most likely a brother; and the final man, standing in front of the door so Charles couldn't see his face.

"Dr. Xavier!" This came from the as-yet-unidentified final member.

Charles called through the door, "How do I know you're actually who you say you are?"

A golden badge suddenly filled his field of vision then shrunk back so he could read that it did indeed say United States Secret Service Agent on it. It lowered and the holder barked, "Badges!"

The other four scrambled to pull them out and Charles nodded to himself, stepping back to unlock the door and pull it open. "Hi," he started to say but was shoved to the side as they filed past him into the apartment.

"Sorry," the blond mumbled as his bag bounced against Charles' leg.

Charles closed the door and locked it then stood there, feeling awkward as he watched them take in his home. They were all dressed in casual clothes, with several suitcases and bags now being set on his couch and coffee table. "Um," he tried again. "So, hi. Welcome."

The blond smiled at him and stepped forward to offer his hand to shake. "Hey, I'm Alex Summers. Good to meet ya."

 _Oh, thank god._ Charles shook his hand in relief. "Charles Xavier," he winced, "but you already know that…"

Alex just grinned and said, "Let me introduce you to the team." He clapped a hand on the brunet's shoulder. "This here's my big bro, Scott." Scott shook his hand. Alex motioned to the redhead. "Scott's fiancé, Jean Grey."

She smiled as she shook Charles' hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Doctor."

"Likewise. And call me Charles, please," he replied with a returning smile.

"That's Angel Salvadore." A flirtatious smile accompanied this handshake and Charles wondered if he should inform her that he prefers men. Alex thumbed over his shoulder. "And that's the boss, Erik Lensherr."

 _So that's who was on the other end of the phone…_ Agent Lensherr grunted but didn't look at him. In fact he had his back to them, making it difficult to get a good look at him. Charles raised an eyebrow and Alex shrugged. "You'll get used to his grumpiness soon."

Okay…this was all well and good but he had somewhere to be. Hesitantly, he said, "It's wonderful to meet you all—and thank you for coming—but I had no idea when, exactly, you were coming and I'm actually running late for my first class."

"When?"

Startled, Charles glanced at Erik, who had turned to face him. He was tall, muscular underneath the black shirt, dark brown hair, ruggedly handsome and… _My god his eyes are blue_. "9:25. It usually takes me forty minutes or so to get to campus, especially with traffic in this part of town."

Erik glanced at his watch. "Get ready. We'll drive." Charles only paused a moment before moving to grab his things. "Gear up. Scott, Jean, pull one of the cars around front," he heard Erik order as he shoved papers into his bag.

After a couple minutes, he announced, "I'm ready."

"About time," Lensherr grumbled, pulling open the door. "Summers, Salvadore, take the rear. Come on, doc." Charles was herded out of his apartment, just barely managing to lock it behind him as he was escorted to the elevator then down to the lobby and outside where a red SUV was waiting. Erik—and what was Charles supposed to call him? Or any of them? Were they on a first name basis or was it to be Agent this and Agent that?—opened the rear door and, after a brief hesitation, Charles climbed inside, sitting in the back seat. Alex slid in on his right, Angel on his left, Jean took one of the middle chairs and Erik slid into the passenger seat. Scott pulled out a moment later and Charles silently hoped they knew where they were going.

Needless to say, it was an awkward ride. Charles remained quiet until he noticed they were about to turn onto Spice Street and had to speak up. "You don't want to go that way."

Scott glanced at him through the rearview mirror. "What? Why not?"

"It's a dead end; only thing down there is a roundabout."

"That's not on the GPS," Scott replied, changing lanes.

Charles explained, "It wouldn't be. Most GPS's don't understand roundabouts. Take the next right—that'll put us on Campus Parkway."

Scott followed his directions and the mood felt a little lighter. "Thanks. Would've made you even later if I'd gone that way."

"No problem. I know a lot of different ways to get to work." He shrugged. "Comes in handy after ten years of teaching and fifteen of living in the city."

Jean twisted in her seat to look at him. "Where did you live before, Doctor?"

"My family's from Westchester. And, please, call me Charles," he corrected her, which gave him an easy segue into his earlier issue. "And can I call you Jean?"

She nodded. "First name basis is perfectly fine."

"For all of you?" Charles clarified, certain that at least Agent Lensherr would refuse.

Jean shot a glance towards the passenger seat then replied, "Yeah. All of us." There was a sharpness to her tone that was no doubt meant for her boss.

They drove in silence until the college came into view and Scott asked, "Where am I parking, Doc?"

"I have an assigned spot in front of the science building, off of Mayflower." He leaned forward, trying to orient himself from the backseat. "Go straight across Turing, then, no wait…crap. Sorry, apparently I don't have to think about it. Um…oh, turn right!...Left at the stop sign…Then see over there? The sign for McCaffrey Hall? There's a parking lot on the far side."

* * *

Scott drove slowly as Xavier managed to fail at giving useful directions. Erik's fingers tapped against his thigh as he automatically scanned the area. Students were walking across campus, hurrying to get to class on time. He checked the time: 9:17. _Why wasn't there a schedule in the folder? That would have been important information, Mason,_ Erik thought, frustrated. Scott pulled into the parking lot, headed for the first row of reserved spaces in which Xavier did indeed have his own parking space. _Lucky him_. Erik was out first, the others piling out a moment later. He did a circle, feeling a bit like he was babysitting.

Footsteps alerted him to the fact that Xavier had just walked right on by. _Hell no,_ Erik thought and stepped forward quickly to catch up to him. Coming up even, he threw an arm out, catching the teacher across the chest and forcing him to stop. Erik then moved to stand in front of him, eyes narrowed as Xavier looked up at him questioningly. "You don't lead," he said in a flat tone.

Xavier replied reasonably, "Then how will you know where to go?"

Erik glared at him. "I lead. You give directions. And better ones than how to find your parking spot."

Xavier frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side. Erik folded his arms across his chest and subtly shifted his weight so that he was more comfortable standing, settling in. No way in hell was he looking away first. Best to settle right off the bat who was in charge here.

After a couple minutes of their staring contest, Xavier's frown slowly morphed into a wide grin and he said happily, "Oh, you're good. We should play chess sometime. Or perhaps cards; I'm sure your poker face is quite excellent."

Nonplussed, Erik could only stare at him for a second. Then the snickers of his team caught his attention and he looked over the teacher's shoulder at them, intensifying his glare. They stopped immediately and shifted uncomfortably. _Serves 'em right_.

Xavier said brightly, "We're headed to that building on the right. McCaffrey Hall is the science building on campus. I have to make a stop in my office for some things first; that's on the second floor. Then my first class is on the third floor, same building."

Erik nodded, once, taking in the information, regretting the lack of schedule again. Something he'll have to fix…and get the sister's, too. Resigned, he asked, "I suppose I shouldn't ask for room numbers?"

Xavier's tone remained cheerful as he replied, "I wouldn't. There's no number for my office and I honestly don't remember the classroom numbers. I just count doors."

Erik gritted his teeth, thoroughly irritated at the situation, spun on his heel and strode off, the team falling in behind and around Xavier. They took the stairs because elevators were an excellent place to be trapped. Exiting onto the second floor, he heard Xavier say from behind him, "Left. It's around the corner, at the end of the hall. I've got one of the bigger offices, what with my tenure and all." Erik ignored him in favor of moving, his training taking over as his eyes constantly scanned and noted potential issues. This whole damn place was an issue. Tight corners, thin hallways, one entrance in or out that he could see so far, and an office in a cul-de-sac… At least, being on the second floor, if they had to use a window for a quick exit, there would be few, if any, broken bones involved.

He took note of the nameplates on the doors, resigned to finding a faculty list to run background checks on. The nameplate on the door at the end of the hall forced him to stop. _Dr. Charles Xavier_ was painted on the door. Xavier tried to edge past him to reach it and Erik took a step to the right, effectively blocking him. Erik said pointedly, "What did I say about leading?"

Xavier's tone was just as pointed as he replied, "It's my office and I need to get in there."

Erik took a breath. "Is it locked?"

"Well, of course it's locked. I keep answer keys in there."

He refrained from rolling his eyes and held out a hand. "Key." After a second, a key ring was dropped in his hand and he unlocked the door with a faint _click_. He returned the keys, grabbed the professor's arm and physically dragged him back down the hall until he was behind the brothers. With a quick, "Stay," Erik returned to the office door. He drew his gun and gently pushed the door open.

"I really don't think that's—" Xavier started but he was shushed. Clearly he hadn't thought about the fact that his office could be booby-trapped. Erik slipped inside, scanning the room for anything of concern. Bookcase, file cabinet, chair…He moved the door and checked the other side of the room. Desk, window, another bookcase, couple more chairs…He holstered his gun and did a quick check for bugs or cameras. Nothing. "All clear," he called, making a mental note to dig out the earwigs he'd packed when they got back to the apartment.

Xavier was first in, throwing him a faintly disapproving look as he moved to his desk. "I really don't think the gun was necessary."

Erik ignored him but Alex replied, "Better to be prepared and find nothing, then find trouble and be unprepared, Charles."

Xavier hummed thoughtfully. "I like that. Could I borrow it?"

"Sure."

Five minutes later—they were surely late, now—Xavier said, "Okay. I think I've got everything."

"Great." Erik led the way back down the hall to the stairs and up to the third floor where he was told to take a right and it's the fourth door on the left. And again, Xavier tried to go in first. This time Erik only had to treat him to a glare before he backed up, not without a glare of his own, though. Did the man not care that his life was being threatened by someone?

"Alex, Angel, stay out here. Scott, Jean, with me and the doc." Erik stepped in first and realized it was more of a lab than a classroom. And it was full of students who all stopped talking the moment he entered.

Xavier brushed past him, saying loudly, "Good morning, class. I do apologize for being late, but as you can see, I have a few guests. Don't mind them; they're here for me." He moved to the desk at the head of the room and Erik was grateful there were few windows in this room.

Scott said quietly, "Jean and I can work the room, if you want to stay close to Charles?"

"Works for me." They split up, Xavier unloading objects onto the desk, still talking. _Er sprach die ganze zeit._ (translation: He talked all the time.) Scott and Jean took up positions on the periphery of the class while Erik strode right across the room to the far corner; turned out to be a pretty good vantage point.

"Now, since I'm sure you've all done the readings, how about we start with a quick pop quiz. Oh, there's no need for groans. It's simple enough; even if you skimmed it you could pass." Xavier passed out papers and grinned. "And I have extra insurance against cheating, as you all can see." Scott and Jean had starting walking in opposite directions, crossing each other at the back. "You have five minutes, beginning…now." There was a flurry of paper as the students flipped their quizzes over.

Erik shifted, trying to get a little more comfortable against the wall. Xavier fired up his laptop in the meantime and used the remote to turn on the projection box on the ceiling. He fiddled with the computer for the next five minutes before calling, "Okay, time's up! Pass your papers to the front of the row, and please: don't compare your response to what your classmate wrote. For all you know, you were right and they were wrong." Erik rolled his eyes as Xavier collected the papers and proceeded to go over all ten questions, some of them in depth. _Which class was this again?_

Xavier said, "Good, you all seem to have grasped the intro concept well enough that I feel confident moving on today. We'll be learning about organic reactions in general. We'll get into more specifics during lab time." He pulled down the projector screen and gasped, stepping back quickly, a hand over his mouth in surprise.

That brought Erik instantly to his side. He looked at the screen and had to keep from recoiling himself. A picture of Xavier was taped to the screen with _Die!_ spray-painted across it in red paint. Now, he encountered a lot during his work as a Secret Service agent but there was still something about seeing "die" written across your face that was profoundly disturbing. He moved so he was blocking Xavier's view of the screen and said quickly and quietly, "Who else has access to this room?"

Xavier blinked a few times, his face pale. "Um…the, uh, the other professors, of course. Cleaning staff. Students."

Okay. Long list to go through. "Who knows your schedule well enough to know you'd be the one to use the projector screen first thing in the morning?"

Xavier was starting to get his act together; something Erik appreciated. He licked his lips and Erik's gaze focused on them before he dragged them back up. "Again, the, uh, the other professors. Um, administration. Registration. My TA's, possibly."

"I want a list." _Seine augen sind noch blauer als das foto führte mich zu glauben_ , Erik thought (translation: _His eyes are even bluer than the photo led me to believe_ ) before mentally forcing himself back to the task at hand.

Xavier nodded. "Of course." His gaze strayed over Erik's shoulder and he swallowed hard.

Erik asked quietly, "Can you run the PowerPoint without the screen down?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it can…it can be seen on the chalkboard."

"Okay." Erik turned around and tugged on the string that would roll it back up, hearing Xavier's faint "Thank you," as he did so. _Verdammt,_ (translation: damn it)he shouldn't be feeling bad for him! "Continue," he said but did not return to his corner. Instead he leaned against the chalkboard, just to the side of the PowerPoint now displayed.

Xavier apologized for the interruption and started his lecture, a little weak at first but stronger as he went on. Erik studied him with a new light. Xavier had been startled, for sure, but he rallied much quicker than Erik had imagined he would. He glanced up at the now-hidden threat then over at Scott and tilted his head towards the door. Scott nodded and slipped out, Angel coming in to take his place. Scott would call Mason, have him call the policeman in charge of the investigation and let him know there had been another threat. This time a lot closer to home. Xavier shot him a quick smile, possibly knowing the reason for the switch and Erik's new, closer, position to him.

 _They were getting braver,_ Erik thought. To actually come into Xavier's workspace and do that. How could they not have been caught? Were there surveillance cameras anywhere? He'd have to check on that. No. No, the police would check on that; but he could suggest it. And add a few of his own, with permission.


	3. Chapter 3

Charles' fingers shook slightly as he graded lab reports. He kept trying not to let it show but…seeing that on the projection screen that morning had really shook him up. He felt distracted in his classes all day. Up until then, he'd always maintained that the threats on his life, and by extension Raven's, were merely hypothetical. It was Emma who'd taken action. They were scary, certainly creepy, yes, but ultimately hypothetical. This morning's event had changed his opinion irrevocably. It proved that whoever was behind this knew where he worked and when.

He set the pen down, unable to focus, and ran his hands over his face and through his hair. Taking a deep breath, Charles got up and went to stand in front of the window, looking down at all the students hurrying to and from class. It all seemed so normal and yet…he felt a little distanced from it in a way he hadn't felt before. He wrapped his arms around his middle, trying to think of something, anything, else.

The door opened, but he ignored it. If it was a student, they'd say something. If not, well, he had two agents outside his door and two agents inside his office. None were Erik, however. He'd been off somewhere since lunch. Charles tried hard to ignore the fact that he felt less safe without the grouchy agent around, despite it being less than a day of having them around.

"Everything good in here?" he heard Erik's voice ask quietly.

Angel responded just as quietly, "Yeah. He was working til about a minute ago."

"Thanks. Give us a minute?"

Charles frowned slightly. What could that mean? Then he heard the door close, assumed Jean had left as well, but then heard footsteps approach his position.

Erik told him, "You shouldn't stand in front of the window. Easy target." Charles silently took a step to the right—still able to look outside but less visible through the glass. "I meant…never mind." Erik sighed. "Look, I need to ask you something."

His voice shook only slightly as he asked, "What is it?"

"I've already talked to the police and campus security—" _Oh, so that's where he's been all day_ , Charles thought. Erik continued, "but I need your permission to put surveillance cameras up in your office and classrooms."

Charles turned to face him, surprised. "What for? One of you will be with me at all times, yes?" He hated that it sounded a little like he was pleading. He was stronger than that. He hoped.

Erik nodded, his face carefully clear of expression. "Yes, I will. But this is for when you're not on campus. I want to make sure that this morning does not happen again. In any form. Because if they can get to your classrooms and office…" he trailed off, but the rest of the sentence was clear.

Charles quietly finished it. "Then they can get to my apartment, too. Or Raven's dorm room."

"Exactly."

Charles sighed and turned back to the window, hugging himself tighter. "Day One on the job and already you have a plan." _And they're already getting worse._ He tried for a light tone but wasn't sure it worked. He paused, then turned back and said, "Do it. But put one in Raven's room too? For my peace of mind, if nothing else."

"I'd planned on it. And Angel and Jean will be going as Raven's personal guards, unless I need to pull one of them."

"But Raven will have someone?" Charles pushed. His sister's safety meant everything to him.

"Yes. Raven will have an agent with her at all times."

It was then that Charles realized that Erik had said that _he_ would be by Charles' side at all times. For some reason, that made him feel warm and he turned away quickly, suddenly needing to put some space between them. "So, I suppose you'll be needing to know all the rooms I use, yes?" He moved to his desk, pulling up his course schedule on the computer.

"Full schedule of classes, meetings, and anything related to your campaign."

Oh, right. Yes, he did still need to call Emma back and inform her that he could make it to that rally now. "Um, okay. The first two I can do. The campaign content will have to come from my campaign manager, Emma Frost. She keeps tabs on everything for me." Charles turned away from printing his schedule to rummage in the desk for his phonebook. Yes, horribly outdated but it worked.

"I'll need to meet her in person, Xavier. Your sister, too." Erik's voice was pointed and Charles frowned. The other agents all used his first name; why couldn't Erik?

Had he told her? He'd told her, right? Charles stood up, abandoning the search for Emma's number as he wondered whether he'd actually informed Raven that they were getting Secret Service agents to protect them.

"What is it?"

Charles started, glancing at him. "Hmm? Oh, no. Sorry, just thinking. I don't think I ever actually let Raven know you were coming."

"Should I let Scott know we'll be picking her up later?" Now Erik sounded a little irritated.

He shook his head. "No, no. I can text her. Tell her to come by after class." He pulled his cell phone out of his bag and quickly sent his sister a text asking her to come over for supper and to meet their new bodyguards.

Erik interrupted him as he started to put it back, asking, "What's your number?"

"What?"

"Cell phone number. I want it."

"Whatever for?"

"In case something happens and you need to reach me. Or I need to reach you."

It made sense, but even so Charles was reluctant to tell him. They swapped numbers so Charles would know who was calling.

"Does your sister have a car?"

"Hmm? Oh no." He shook his head. "Either I drive or she uses public transportation. Her boyfriend, Hank, does, though. Should I ask him to drop her off?"

"Yes. I'll need to meet him, as well. Tonight. See if you can get Emma to come by, too."

"You have a lot of people to meet," Charles tried to joke. Erik just ignored him, studying his teaching schedule. "I'm afraid you won't be able to meet Emma until Wednesday, at the earliest."

Erik's gaze was sharp as he lowered the paper. "Why?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Just a stop at a soup kitchen; nothing to worry about." He sent the text off to his sister, telling her to have Hank drive and come up.

" _Verdammt_. These are things I need to _know_ , Xavier. Anything _else_ going on this week?"

Charles tilted his head, thinking. He didn't think so…but he didn't know his schedule as well as Emma did so it was possible he was missing something. He said as much to Erik who lifted his eyes to the ceiling and took a deep breath.

"Fine. I want to meet your sister and her boyfriend tonight," Erik informed him as he walked out the door, Jean and Angel slipping back in and shutting the door behind them.

Angel lifted an eyebrow at him and asked, "What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

Jean and Angel exchanged looks then Jean said, "He's kinda pissed."

"Oh. I was beginning to think that was his normal state." He sat down and picked up his correcting pen again. "I think he's just upset that I don't know my schedule as well as he thinks I should. But that's what I have Emma for; she makes the schedule, so I see no reason why she shouldn't keep me on time."

Angel giggled. "Oh, boy. This'll be interesting, won't it, Jean?"

Jean replied, "I'm just glad it won't be us dealing with him."

Angel said, "Yeah, speaking of which…What's your sister like, Charles?"

Charles lowered his pen and looked up at them with a fond smile. "Raven is my younger sister, adopted really, but we're the only family each other has anymore. You'll like her, I think."

* * *

"The contents of your kitchen are really very sad, Charles," Scott said as he opened Charles' practically empty fridge.

Charles shrugged. "I eat out a lot." He put his hands on his hips and glanced around the living room. "Has anyone seen my Grey's Anatomy text? I can't remember where I put it."

"Sounds about par for the course," someone—he suspected Erik—muttered from the kitchen.

Maybe it was in his bedroom. He was rummaging through drawers in his bedroom when he heard a knock on the door. _Ah, Raven's here!_ The sound was quickly followed by instant silence and he frowned. What in the world…? Heading down the hall, Charles was astonished to find that they all had their guns drawn from their respective positions in the apartment. "Now, hang on…" he started, but a hand clamped over his mouth immediately. He glared over it at Erik who hissed, "Stop talking."

"Charles! You know full well I'm only knocking as a courtesy; I have a key, you know!"

Charles yanked Erik's hand off his mouth with difficulty and snapped, "That's my sister. Put your guns away, for goodness' sake! Just a sec, Raven!"

They stared at each other for a moment before Erik nodded. "Stand down," he ordered and holstered his weapon.

Charles shoved past him with a huff, opened the door and pulled Raven into a tight hug. "God, I'm glad you're here."

She squeezed him just as tight. "Bad day?" she asked sympathetically as she pulled back.

"Interesting, to say the least," he replied, motioning for her and Hank to come in. "How about you? Good day, I hope?"

Raven stopped so fast Hank ran into her back. "Charles, when you said we were getting bodyguards, I was expecting one each. Maybe two, for you. There are five here."

"Ah, well, yes, it's rather a bit more than I was expecting as well." He felt a little uncomfortable but closed the door and started the necessary introductions. "So…that's Angel by the television, Alex and Jean on the couch, Scott in the kitchen and Erik by the table. Everyone, this is my little sister Raven and her boyfriend Hank."

"Younger. Not little," Raven corrected absently. They did this every time. "So which ones are mine?" she asked brightly but Charles could tell she was not at all thrilled.

Angel stood up and smiled. "I'm all yours!"

Raven turned to face her and they sized each other up. Charles and Hank exchanged nervous looks. This could go bad very quickly. Just as he stepped forward to try to diffuse things, Angel said, "Where'd you get that jacket?"

"Made it." Raven's tone was a bit icy.

"It's amazing! Could you make me one like that? Maybe different colors, though. I don't have your skin tone," Angel replied appreciatively.

"Sure. I went with blue and red, but for you…" The ice had vanished from her voice and Charles sighed in relief. "What do you think of black and purple?"

Angel grinned. "I love it. What do you think, Jean? Think that'd work for me?"

Jean nodded from the couch. "You'd look great."

Raven turned to her and tilted her head. "I could make you one, too, if you want. Possibly…blue and yellow?"

"She'll glow in the dark!" Alex scoffed and Raven's glare was back.

Charles winced and tugged on Hank's arm. "Come on," he said quietly. "Out of the splash zone, as it is."

Hank agreed. "I learned early on in our relationship that I was never going to win a fight with her."

"Probably the best way to live," Charles agreed with a half-laugh, leading him to where Scott had joined Erik while Raven and Alex argued over colors. _Christ…_ "Erik, Scott, this is Hank McCoy."

Scott and Hank shook hands, Erik studying him. _Good lord, did the man ever greet someone normally?_

"This is what I'm studying! What the hell do you know about color complements?"

"Oh, dear," Charles murmured, running a hand through his hair.

"Blue and yellow does _not_ go together!"

"Does too!"

"Does not!"

"SHUT IT!" Erik bellowed and the room went dead silent. "Alex, quit arguing with her. You have no clue what constitutes female fashion, I would hope. Raven, get your temper in check. You'll make your point better if you're not screaming it."

They both looked suitably chastised and Charles looked at Erik wonderingly. "You have got to teach me how to do that."

Erik's eyes flicked towards his and the corner of his mouth tipped upwards briefly. "All right. Now that we've all met, I would suggest dinner but apparently grocery shopping was not on the to-do list."

"There's a great little Chinese place right around the corner," Charles offered.

Erik sighed. "Chinese okay with everyone?" There was agreement all around and Charles dug out the menu.

* * *

Erik watched the siblings closely, trying to figure out what their relationship was like. According to the dossier he had, Xavier's parents had adopted Raven when Xavier was eleven and she was around four or five. The father, Brian Xavier, died shortly afterwards. His wife, Sharon, remarried about a year later, a man named Kurt Marko who brought his son, Cain, around Xavier's age, to the family. Not knowing all that much about how they grew up, he nonetheless knew that they were basically orphaned while Xavier was at college and Raven had just entered middle school. Apparently Xavier was a genius and graduated high school and undergrad early. They seemed close, but that could be an act. No information on what happened to the stepbrother.

Raven giggled loudly from where she sat next to her brother, his arm wrapped loosely around her shoulders as he laughed. She was sitting much closer to Xavier than she was to McCoy, supposedly her boyfriend. A rather whipped boyfriend, he decided.

It also looked as if she and Angel were going to get along splendidly, having spent most of the night discussing clothing. One load off his mind. Xavier suddenly got up and headed for the kitchen. After a moment's thought, Erik followed.

Xavier said, "Are you going to follow me everywhere? Because I'm pretty sure you have the layout of my apartment memorized already."

He did, but that wasn't why he'd followed the man. "Is your sister going to be trouble for my agents?" He put it bluntly, hoping to startle some truth out.

Xavier chuckled as he pulled two cans of pop out of the fridge—apparently Alex's run to the convenience store had proven more fruitful than he'd thought. "Possibly. I won't deny she's spirited, but Angel seems able to keep up with her so I wouldn't worry overmuch." He hesitated, then handed one of the cans out towards Erik.

Erik stared at it long enough for Xavier to shift. Not only was the man talkative, but he was extremely optimistic and generous. Not exactly good traits to have in a president, in his opinion. Xavier started to pull the can back, mumbling apologies and turning slightly red and Erik grabbed it, feeling unaccountably guilty at embarrassing him. Xavier smiled faintly as Erik took a sip. "So…spirited?"

"She was the epitome of a wild-child, growing up. It's only recently that she's decided what she wants to do with her life, having bounced from job to job since high school. I'm so relieved she's settled on something. I raised her more than my parents ever did, so I worry much too much." Xavier smiled wryly. "As she is fond of telling me."

"I see." And he was beginning to.

"Charles, get back here and finish the story!" Raven called.

Xavier said, "My audience awaits. Excuse me," and he brushed past Erik. "Raven, do I have to? You know how embarrassing that was."

"Exactly! That's why you have to finish."

Erik leaned against the counter, drinking his pop, thinking. He tapped the fingers of his free hand against the counter absently; it helped him think. Angel and Raven were becoming fast friends so perhaps he'd do better to send along a more level head. Jean would be a good choice. Or Scott. No, he immediately dismissed the thought. He needed Scott to keep Alex in check. And if he sent Alex…he could just imagine the arguments between him and the sister. No, Jean was the best choice. And it made it a little easier, keeping the genders together.

Peals of laughter interrupted his thoughts and he looked over to find Xavier bright red and everyone laughing. He headed to the spare bedroom he'd claimed as their base of sorts, intending to pull out some things to send along with the girls. Earwigs, schedules, contact numbers—he made a mental note to get Raven's number before she left, McCoy's too—a couple surveillance cameras, laptop, and anything else they might need. He was also banking on the fact that Jean and Scott would almost certainly be in near-constant contact.

It was nearly two hours later when they left. Jean had understood the reasons for his request, said goodbye to everyone and then she and Angel had packed their things and escorted Raven and McCoy out. He gave Jean the keys to the red Tahoe, since Raven didn't have a car. Raven and Xavier had a hug, she kissed his cheek, he told her to listen to Angel and Jean (which Erik appreciated), a quick goodbye to McCoy and then it was just Erik, Xavier and the brothers.

Xavier retired to bed shortly afterwards, Scott taking the first shift, Alex passing out on the couch and Erik took the bedroom. He opened both bedroom doors, just in case, then climbed into bed and flicked off the light.


	4. Chapter 4

_This place looks like it's about to fall apart_ , Erik thought as he followed Xavier into the building that housed a soup kitchen. There were a few people inside already, setting up dishes and cleaning the tables. They all wore aprons and the women wore their hair up. He motioned for Alex and Scott to take a look around while he stayed with Xavier.

"Charles, you came!" One of the women called and walked over.

Xavier moved to meet her, smiling. "Of course I came, Moira. How could I not?" They hugged and he kissed her cheek. Erik cleared his throat, making Xavier turn in surprise. "Oh, of course. Erik, this is Moira MacTaggert, a dear friend of mine. Moira, this is Agent Erik Lensherr, one of the three agents assigned to me." He leaned over and whispered loudly, "He's a rather grumpy person."

Moira giggled but held out a hand to shake. "It's nice to meet you, Agent Lensherr. Good to see that someone's finally taken notice of what's going on."

He studied her as he replied, "The safety of a potential future president is of extreme importance to the Secret Service." Light brown hair cropped short, light grey eyes, tanned complexion wearing jeans and a dirty t-shirt, Moira looked very down-to-earth. A firm grip, too. He liked that in a person. A no-nonsense type of person. Quite the opposite of Xavier, surprisingly.

"Secret Service. Oooh, aren't we special?" Moira teased, bumping Xavier with her elbow.

He flushed and changed the subject. "Did Sean come with you?"

Moira nodded. "In the back with Darwin. He thinks he's come up with a way to make the soup taste better, but between you and me? I'm hoping Darwin vetoes it, immediately."

Xavier chuckled. "Yes, Sean isn't exactly the culinary type, is he?"

"Not at all. Go on back; I'm sure they'll both want to say hi. Maybe you can take Sean's spot in the kitchen."

"I'll do my best, but you know the decision is Darwin's," Xavier replied, then motioned for Erik to follow as they began to thread their way through the tables to the double doors along the back. "The four of us have been working here ever since we met in one of our undergrad classes. It was one of those courses that all freshmen take, demanding a certain amount of volunteer work off campus. We came to really enjoy it and then Darwin took over a couple years ago."

Erik appreciated the background, but not the extra names to check. "How often do you come here?" he asked instead.

"I try to come once a week. Wednesdays are usually best; Emma tries not to schedule anything campaign-like then. She says it's good for the people to see me here; I don't really care about that. I enjoy helping people; I'm not doing it to boost my career or anything, I hope you realize." Xavier shoved open the door and called out, "Sean, Darwin, you back here?"

The conundrum that was Xavier was starting to get a little clearer. He was a good person…but whether that translated to being able to run a country was still up in the air. Or perhaps he was just naïve. The ever present optimism was starting to wear on him, and it had only been a couple days. Erik also still needed to meet Emma and get a schedule…if that was even possible with the man.

"Charles!" A pale redheaded young man bounded over. Erik had moved in front of Xavier before it had really registered what he was doing. The other man skidded to a stop and held both hands up. "Whoa, man. Chill. Jeez, Charles, what's with the suit?"

Xavier put a hand on his arm and said quietly, "It's all right, Erik," before stepping up next to him. "Hello, Sean. Erik, Sean Cassidy; Sean, Erik Lensherr, Secret Service. Do I dare ask what that smell is or should I just try not to breathe too deeply?"

Sean grinned widely. "New recipe. Found it in a library book the other day and I've been meaning to try it out. Moira won't let me cook at home—"

"So you thought you'd try it out here?" Xavier concluded with a sigh, finally pulling his hand off Erik's arm to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Please tell me Darwin is nearby."

"Course he is." Sean twisted his head and shouted, "YO, DAR! Get out here!"

Erik heard a voice from the back shout back, "What'd you screw up this time, Sean?" If that was the automatic reaction, Erik wasn't so sure he wanted to be around Cassidy.

Cassidy and Xavier exchanged grins and Xavier shouted back, "Your soup's burning!"

A young African-American man came running out only to slide to a stop as they burst into laughter. "Damn it, Sean…Charles." He came up and pulled Xavier into a hug. "Didn't think you'd be able to make it, what with everything that's been going on." He eyed Erik as they pulled apart and Erik returned the gesture.

Xavier's eyes flicked between them. "Darwin, this is Erik. He's here to keep me safe. Erik, Armando Muñoz but everyone calls him Darwin."

"Pleasure," Erik said, noting that Xavier introduced him differently to all three of them and wondered if there was a reason for it.

Xavier clapped his hands. "Now, where do you want me, Darwin?"

Darwin glanced around, wrinkled his nose and said, "Ugh, good god, Sean, what did you put in here?" He went over to inspect the pot. "Um, would you mind serving out front, Charles? I'm a bit short on volunteers today."

"No problem," Xavier said cheerfully. "Just hand me an apron and I'm good to go."

"Thanks." Darwin seemed a bit frantic as he tossed an apron over while simultaneously stirring the contents of the pot that was now starting to smell a bit foul. "You better hope those vets come today, Sean, or no one else is going to eat this. I'm going to have to start a new pot…"

Xavier caught Erik's eye, tilted his head towards the door and they left Sean arguing with Darwin in the kitchen. Erik said quietly, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"It's a brilliant idea, and who are you, handsome?"

Erik's head snapped up and his hand flew to his holster at the interruption. A blonde bombshell stood in front of the table Xavier had stopped at, smirking as her gaze traveled appreciatively down his body. His eyes narrowed, studying her in turn. Shoulder-length bottle blonde hair, icy blue eyes, pale complexion with heavy makeup and wearing a white suit that was surely better suited to a club than a soup kitchen, the woman currently had her arms crossed over her impressive chest and a hip cocked, mouth tilted upwards in an appreciative smirk. A large white bag dangled from one of her shoulders.

Xavier worked on getting his apron tied as he introduced them. "Ah, you did it make it. Emma, love, this is Agent Lensherr of the Secret Service. He's the head of my security detail. Erik, this is Emma Frost, my campaign manager and timekeeper." With a frustrated noise, he turned to Erik and asked, "Would you mind tying this? I can't quite reach."

Erik stepped up behind him, took the strings in hand—fingers lightly brushing against Xavier's—and quickly and effortlessly tied a double knot, all while keeping his eyes on Miss Frost.

"Nice to meet you, sugar," Frost purred, her gaze dropping.

He realized what he was doing and stepped back, silently berating himself while keeping his face expressionless. Damn it, he wasn't supposed to like the guy! Keep the man alive; that was it. Erik muttered into the earwig, "Alex, get over here and watch Xavier while I chat with Frost." Movement from the left alerted him to Alex's approach, coming right up next to Xavier at the table and initiating a conversation. Erik scowled. None of them were supposed to get friendly; it was an assignment, nothing more. Turning away, he walked over to Frost and said, "We need to talk."

"Certainly." She followed as he headed off to the side. "You cut a nice picture in that suit. What do you say to a business dinner?"

"Don't swing that way."

"Shame." She didn't sound too disappointed, though.

Erik gritted his teeth. Was everyone involved with Xavier going to grate on his nerves? "We need to talk about Xavier's campaign schedule."

"Xavier? _Oh_. You mean Charles. And you…Erik, wasn't it? When did you arrive?"

Erik felt his eyes narrow slightly. "Monday. I want a schedule of all of his events for the next two months."

Frost's eyes widened now. "Two months? Oh, honey, I don't schedule that far in advance."

"How far _do_ you schedule?"

She shrugged. "Couple weeks? Charles' availability changes a lot because of his teaching. God knows I've tried to get him to quit but he refuses to give it up on the off chance he'll lose." Another smirk. "But that's not going to happen. Not with me in charge. He's already up in the polls since the threats started; people love an underdog."

Scott's voice buzzed faintly in his ear. "We need her on our side, Erik. Get your temper under control."

And _that_ was exactly why he worked well with Scott; they complemented each other. Scott had some sort of sixth sense about when Erik needed to take a step back, both mentally and physically. He took a steadying breath then informed her, "Miss Frost, I really don't care whether he's winning or not. All I care about is keeping him alive to campaign. Now, in order to do that, I need to be able to check out the venues he'll be appearing at. So we'll need to keep in touch." He tried for calm but there was still a slight edge to his voice.

She tilted her head to the side. "Way I see it, we both have the same goal: keep Charles in the running. Yes?" When he nodded, reluctantly, she pulled out an iPad and continued, "Do you have an email address I can contact you at? I can send you updates as I make them and honestly, it's a lot faster to reach me that way. Charles has my cell number if you absolutely need it."

"I absolutely need it." He pulled out his phone, they swapped numbers and he gave her his work email address.

Emma tapped her iPad. "So, the next thing I have on the schedule is a meeting with his campaign team on Monday. Shouldn't take too long; just updating everyone. Next public event…eh, a couple minor appearances. Visiting schools, a couple speaking requests for LGBT groups. I'll send you the addresses later."

Erik acknowledged the information with a nod. The speaking requests would most likely prove the most troublesome…mainly because some people were still bigoted assholes who couldn't just accept that you should be able to love anyone you want.

"Emma, are you helping?" Xavier interrupted then, calling across the room to them as he hefted a huge pot onto the table in front of him.

Emma and Erik exchanged looks—allies of a sort—and headed back. Emma waggled her free hand in the air. "Fresh manicure, sugar! I'll just take photos, if that's all right with you."

Erik stopped at the edge of the table, frowning. "Where's Alex?"

Xavier looked around. "He was right behind me…"

Erik took a step towards the kitchen just as the young agent appeared, carrying several baskets of rolls in his arms. Erik grabbed the baskets and shoved them Xavier's direction, leveling a glare on Alex. "What exactly did you think you were doing?"

Alex glared back at him, wiping his hands on his pants. "Helping. They're shorthanded, you know."

Erik jabbed a finger at his chest. "Your job is to stick by his side and keep him safe. That does not include ferrying food!"

Xavier stepped between them. "That's my fault. I asked him to help." His eyes were ungodly blue right then.

"He should have refused." _Ich hasse diese abtretung_ (translation: I hate this assignment).

"Alex is a grown man and can make his own decisions," Xavier replied calmly.

Alex put a hand on Xavier's shoulder and gently pushed him to the side. "You're right, Erik. Okay? But this is a good thing they're doing here and he wasn't out of my sight for more than ten seconds."

"Ten seconds in which something could have happened."

"But it didn't," Xavier interjected. He smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine." Erik closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get himself under control.

Moira was suddenly there, throwing concerned looks around. "Everything okay over here?"

Xavier nodded. "I think so. Is it time to open the doors?"

"Yeah." She looked unconvinced but Xavier gave her a gentle push and she went to open the doors.

Xavier took up his position behind the soup pot, Alex slipped off to the other side of the room and Erik took up position along the wall behind Xavier, arms crossed. The other volunteers filed into place, Moira opened the door to let the people in then joined the line and Erik noticed Frost off to his right, snapping pictures on her iPad of Xavier serving soup in his apron with a huge smile on his face.

After a couple hours, Erik begrudgingly gave the man some credit. He was good with people. Xavier was relieved from serving duty half an hour ago and was now walking around, occasionally stopping to talk. Always with a smile, a comforting touch, and somehow knew just the right words to say. The only group he seemed to falter around was the group of military veterans who sat at a table of their own. Erik noticed he avoided going over there and finally wandered over himself.

He got a cursory glance before they returned to their meals. "Go away, boy."

Erik glanced over his shoulder. Scott waved from where he'd slid into position behind Xavier so he felt it was safe enough to take a seat next to the soldiers. There were six of them, of differing ages, from mid-thirties to somewhere in their sixties. "Where'd you fight?" he asked as they ate.

"Iraq."

"Korea, 'Nam, South Pacific."

"'Nam."

"Iraq."

"Afghanistan."

"Germany, 'Nam."

Erik nodded. "Was in Kandahar, myself, for a bit."

That got their attention. The youngest of them looked impressed. "You were there? But you don't look military, if you don't mind my sayin' so, sir."

"I'm not. Secret Service. But I was there during the fallout."

That led to the exchange of war stories, the vets opening up to him.

* * *

Charles leaned against the wall next to Emma, his eyes on Erik. He was sitting at the table with the vets, talking easily with them. Something Charles had never managed to do, in all the years he'd been coming here. Erik looked actually relaxed…and it looked good on him.

"Would that I were a fly on the wall," Emma murmured, lifting her iPad.

"Emma, no." He put a hand on her arm, forcing her to lower it. He instinctively knew that Erik wouldn't want that and was surprised to find that he didn't want that, either.

She shot him a look. "That would make a great photo op, Charles, and you know it."

He shook his head. "Not without his permission." Emma huffed but lowered the iPad just the same. "This is not, nor was it ever, a political thing, Emma," Charles reminded her, his eyes still on Erik. "This is something I enjoy doing and I do not want it spoiled."

"Fine. Just do me a favor and keep tall, dark and handsome around, hmm?" Emma grinned. "He's certainly a sight to see, despite being gay."

Charles' head whipped around to stare at her. "What?" _Erik was gay? Then…what's his problem with me?_ Erik confused him. Yes, it had only been a couple days, but he was getting mixed signals. One moment Erik seemed to hate him, the world, the fact that he was within a hundred feet of Charles, then the next Erik seemed to soften, to let concern bleed through the mask of indifference. He'd originally assumed Erik disliked him because of his sexuality, but if his was the same, then why…?

All of that went through his mind in an instant as Emma replied, "I flirted, of course, and he said he didn't swing that way. Certainly sounded like an admission to me." She bumped his shoulder. "Go talk to him."

Charles frowned at her. "No photos, Emma. I'm serious. Don't make me ask Scott to take your iPad from you."

"You would, too, wouldn't you?" Emma sighed dramatically. "Fine. I will not take pictures of you and your extremely sexy bodyguard for the campaign."

" _Emma_ …"

"Nor for any other reason," she grudgingly added.

After a quick breath, Charles pushed off from the wall and headed for Erik's table, grateful he'd removed the apron earlier. Footsteps behind him let him know Scott was following. It was funny how quickly he'd become used to hearing that echo of footsteps behind him. He hesitantly approached the group now laughing loudly and before he could say anything, Erik had looked up and met his gaze. Erik slid over, silently inviting him to join them. There was that mixed signal again. He bit his lip, but sat.

One of the vets leaned across the table and said in a slightly hoarse voice, "So, Bond here says you wanna be president."

Bond? Oh, right. He meant Erik. He could see that; Erik would make a wonderful James Bond. Charles nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I take it you want our vote; that why you're here?"

Charles replied, surprised, "No. Not at all."

The vet lifted an eyebrow. "You don't want our vote?"

"No, that's not…well, yes, I suppose I do want your vote, but that's not why I'm here. I don't want to force people into voting for me, that's not how I think things should go. I think you should vote for whomever you like, although, yes, I do hope that it would be me, of course."

"So what do you do when you're not lying to the world?"

Charles replied, "I don't…" He took a quick breath. "I teach. I'm a science professor at Columbia University."

The old soldier lifted an eyebrow. "Science teacher, huh? So, like, blowing things up or this bone is connected to that bone?"

"It's so much more than that. My classes run the gamut, from biology to chemistry to physics, organic chemistry, genetics…Although personally, I prefer genetics. It's just so fascinating to me to try to figure out why we are the way we are. Why a child has brown hair when almost no one in the family does, or has a mixture of different colors in their eyes—why hazel eyes exist, or why heterochromia exists. Their complexion…I'm working on this experiment now, trying to discover if our personality traits are genetic as well, if they have genetic markers like someone with auburn hair would have, a gene we call MCL1. Trying to figure out if we can learn how someone will act given their genes, their parents' genes…" Charles abruptly realized they were all staring at him and felt himself flush. He looked at the table, feeling awkward.

One of the younger men leaned in and said, "You were right, Bond. He does talk a lot."

Charles looked at Erik, taken aback, and saw him turn pink. Charles shrugged and said faintly, "I think it's a teacher thing."

A couple of the guys chuckled then the youngest asked, "So why do you need Secret Service?"

"Ah," Charles wasn't quite sure how to explain that.

Erik took care of it for him. "Death threats." That was the first time he'd spoken since Charles had joined them.

Thankfully, before Charles could endure more questions on that, he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Moira there. "Can I borrow you for a minute, Charles?" she asked, looking concerned.

"Of course." He turned back to the table and smiled. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but it appears I'm needed elsewhere." Charles got up, found Erik standing as well and put a hand on his arm to stop him. Leaning in, Charles said softly, "Stay. I'm not leaving the building."

Erik frowned. "You still need—"

"An agent with me, yes, I know," Charles completed Erik's sentence. "I'll take Scott. Stay; talk. They like you better than me, anyway." Erik's eyes flicked to the side, presumably to catch Scott's eye, then he nodded and sat back down. Charles counted it a victory as he followed Moira. "What is it, love?"

"Sean and Darwin are at it again and I can't get them to stop. I'm afraid they might actually escalate to blows this time."

Charles sighed. Of course; why they couldn't just get along, he didn't know. There seemed to be at least one fight every time he came, although usually Moira could mediate. Rarely was he asked to step in. The closer they got to the kitchen, the clearer it became that they were shouting. He shoved the door open, Moira and Scott trailing behind and took in the scene. Darwin stood by the stove, Sean opposite him by one of the prepping tables and both were yelling at each other so it was hard to figure out just what the problem was.

Charles said loudly, "What is going on here?"

They both turned to look at him, silent for the briefest of moments before they started in again. This time, though, he thought he might have caught something about Sean messing with Darwin's equipment? Possibly? He shook his head and stepped forward, heading towards Sean, intending to get at least one of them to listen when he saw Darwin grab a bowl. Instinct made him duck and it sailed over his head to smash rather loudly against the wall behind him.

"Stop behaving like children!" he snapped. All four heads whipped to him. He rarely raised his voice and his friends knew it. "Darwin, explain."

* * *

Erik heard the dish crash and bolted for the kitchen, reaching it around the same time as Alex. They shoved open the door in time to hear Xavier say, "Stop behaving like children! Darwin, explain."

Alex elbowed him and pointed out the remains of a bowl of soup on the floor. Erik hissed, "Scott!"

Scott sidled over and murmured, "Darwin threw it, aiming for Sean, but missed. Charles was ducking before I could grab him. We're good."

Erik nodded and then Xavier was talking again. "You two are on the same side, for goodness' sake! You need to come up with some sort of compromise because Moira and I are both getting tired of mediating your arguments. Darwin, you run this place flawlessly but maybe it's time to branch out a bit. Sean has been trying to learn some new recipes so perhaps you could let him try one every now and then. It certainly couldn't hurt. And, Sean, moderation. Please. No one wants to eat something that has every damn spice in it! And keep in mind that, although your attempts are made in good spirit, this is first and foremost Darwin's business and you should ask before messing with the food, yes?"

They both nodded and Erik found himself studying Xavier in a new light. He had found equal ground with them both, in a calm and even tone, and they both seemed to accept it easily enough. Interesting…perhaps there was a bit more to the professor than he'd thought.

Xavier turned around then and started. "Oh! Sorry, I didn't know you were all there." He turned to Moira and asked, "I think we're good in here, wouldn't you agree, love?"

Moira nodded. "Thanks, Charles. If you weren't here, my next step would have been to dump water on them both."

Xavier chuckled. "That would have worked, too, I'm sure." He smiled at Erik, Alex, and Scott. "We can go now, if you want. I still have some grading to do before class tomorrow."

Erik shrugged. " _Was auch immer_ (translation: whatever)." He didn't mind this place. Erik dug out the Tahoe's keys and tossed them to Alex so he could pull the SUV around front while Xavier went to find Emma and say goodbye to everyone.

* * *

 **Thank you everyone for your interest in my story :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**So happy for all the readers out there. Makes my heart soar that you actually like my writing.**

* * *

Erik flipped through the schedule Emma had sent him, making notes of locations and then researching them on one of his laptops. Occasionally, he would glance up at the top of the dresser where he'd set up a couple other computer screens with the surveillance feeds.

"You know," a voice interrupted him, "if you're going to keep muttering to yourself in German, I'm going to have to learn the language. Or at the very least start toting a dictionary around with me."

Erik turned to see Xavier in the doorway wearing red plaid pajama pants and a white t-shirt, arms crossed over his chest. He hadn't been aware he'd been talking out loud, let alone in German. "You should be in bed," he replied curtly and turned back to what he'd been doing. Schools were rather predominant locations; maybe because of his profession?

"I should be, but I couldn't sleep."

Erik spared a glance to check the time. Nearly three in the morning. He should wake Alex for the next watch soon.

Xavier came and sat on the edge of the bed, carefully avoiding the papers. "Do I need to let you know when my boyfriend and I have a date planned?"

That garnered him Erik's full attention as his head whipped around. "What?"

Xavier grinned. "I have a date Saturday evening with my boyfriend. We couldn't make it last week so I rescheduled for this week. That was before you showed up."

Erik scowled. "You're not going," and he turned away again. It was hard to focus with him there, starting to bounce up and down on the mattress.

Xavier didn't leave; instead, he continued, "So what do I tell him?"

"Tell who?"

"Kevin. My boyfriend."

Erik muttered, " _Ist mir egal_ (translation: I don't care)."

Xavier mused, "I could tell him my bodyguards are incapable of protecting me in public. I'm sure he'd be very concerned about that."

Erik gritted his teeth, annoyed. "I'm not your bodyguard. _An diesem punkt fühle ich mich eher wie lhren gottverdammte babysitter_ (translation: at this point I'm feeling more like your goddamned babysitter)." He felt comfortable complaining in his native language since Xavier admitted he couldn't understand it.

Xavier retorted, "Is that not what Jean and Angel are doing for my sister right now? Or are they helping her with her homework?"

 _Fair point,_ Erik thought, but still replied, "You're not going."

Xavier said a little triumphantly, "Then you're admitting that you can't protect me in public."

Erik glared at him, even growled a little, but Xavier remained unrepentant, meeting his gaze squarely. Unhappily, and extremely reluctantly, Erik gave in. "I want to know where you're going, what time, how long, and you do not arrive or leave with him, is that understood?"

He expected Xavier to balk at the restrictions but he just smiled and said, "Understood. Goodnight, Erik."

Xavier left and Erik swore several times under his breath in German. Xavier called from across the hall, "I need to go shopping for a German-English dictionary tomorrow!"

Erik called back, "Go to bed, Xavier!" and shook his head. He was starting to wonder if he could actually make it two months without strangling Xavier.

* * *

Charles settled himself at the table with a cup of tea and pulled his laptop over to check his email. It was rather interesting to note that he no longer had to rush to get to work on time. He actually had a few minutes in the morning to savor his tea. Then again, that could be due to the three men now living with him who all woke up extremely early. Erik entered the room after his shower. He apparently went for a jog every morning no matter where he was.

Charles studied him over the tip of his mug. Erik was very well built, muscular, trim. Charles was just dying to see if his chest was as ripped as he thought it was. Grey eyes caught his from across the room and Charles quickly returned to his email, embarrassed to be caught looking. Four days and there was no denying that Erik was a very attractive man. _You have a boyfriend_ , he sternly reminded himself and then proceeded to take another look at the agent.

Erik abruptly swore. In German. Another thing Charles was starting to learn: Erik spoke in German when he was particularly upset or annoyed or just didn't want anyone else to know what he was saying. Rather unfortunate that Charles was finding it a turn on. "Your sister wants to attend a party tomorrow night."

It took Charles a moment to realize that Erik's comment was directed at him. "Sorry, Raven wants to what?"

"Go to a party. Tomorrow night."

"She goes to plenty of parties. You'll recall I mentioned she was a bit of a wild child," Charles reminded him.

Erik growled. Charles was rather amused by it. "Did you actually just growl at your phone? Or was that directed at me?"

"Both." The glare was back, unfortunately. "I've just remembered our conversation last night. And I can't very well tell her no when I told you yes."

Charles tilted his head. What did he mean by… _oh._ Right. The point Charles had made about Erik not being able to guard him in public now extended to include Raven's social activities as well. Oops. Sorry, Raven. He shrugged. "I could talk to her, if you like. She might be more inclined to listen to me. I don't approve of most of the parties she attends anyway. She meets some rather strange people."

He could see he'd stunned Erik by offering to tell Raven no himself and bit back a smile. "You'd back me on this?" Erik asked and Charles could see Alex twist around from where he was lounging on the couch to watch them. Scott was in the kitchen, trying and failing to act like he wasn't watching.

Charles nodded, smiling. "Of course. Big brother prerogative and all. She'll understand."

Erik still sounded a bit stunned as he said, "All right, I'll let Jean and Angel know." Even as he pulled out his phone, he shot Charles another look that said he couldn't quite believe Charles was serious.

Charles took a sip of his tea, enjoying the fact that he'd managed to surprise Erik. He'd known from practically the moment they'd met that Erik didn't like or approve of him and his campaign. After their little adventure at the soup kitchen, Charles decided that he would be his natural buoyant self and win Erik over with persistence. He did feel a little bad, tricking Erik into agreeing to chaperone his date, so siding with him against Raven's party made him feel better. He'd explain it to her later; she'd understand and go to another party on a different day. Or after his date ended. Either way, it wouldn't be a big problem, he was sure.

Erik hung up and headed for the kitchen, poured a mug of coffee, and threw over his shoulder, "Still waiting on that itinerary." Alex and Scott exchanged confused looks but Charles knew what he meant by the seemingly offhand comment.

Charles couldn't help but grin as he sipped his tea. "I'll talk to him at lunch."

* * *

The first date had been interesting, but in the end a success so it was no surprise when Erik agreed to chaperone a second one the following Saturday. Kevin had been cleared—normal guy with a job sitting in a cubicle, no priors, nothing that could cause a problem. Alex thought he was rather boring, actually, but there was no accounting for taste. Date number two was just as boring for the agents as the first, which was a good thing, he supposed. All in all, Alex had been kind of bored with this assignment—not that he was complaining! At least, not where Erik could hear him. He followed his brother and Charles down the sidewalk, trying to keep an eye out while not bumping into people. Harder than you think, especially on a Saturday night. Everyone apparently had date night tonight.

Erik led the way to the crosswalk and Alex couldn't help but laugh. He was always such a grump, Alex couldn't help but needle him whenever he could. Tonight was no exception, and Alex had chosen to pick guys at random and ask Erik to rate their attractiveness. The fact that they had their earwigs in made it safer and even Scott joined in a bit, which was a surprise in and of itself because Scott had become a stick in the mud once he started dating Jean. Who Alex liked…most of the time.

They were the only ones crossing the street at the moment so Alex fell back a few paces. His thoughts drifted so he didn't see the car pull away from the curb. None of them did. Or, if they did, they didn't take notice. It was a busy night after all, so what did it matter if one car pulled out? It accelerated, still unnoticed. Still perfectly normal.

Alex's foot caught on something and as he stumbled, he saw the car coming up fast. He did some quick calculations and figured they'd be well out of the way by the time it reached the crosswalk. So he kept walking, but watched the car out of the corner of his eye, just in case. Scott and Charles were talking in front of him, but something seemed off; a tenseness to Charles' shoulders that hadn't been there a couple hours ago. Had something happened that he should know about? Maybe Kevin had said something that Charles took offense to. _Or Erik did_ , Alex thought with a silent laugh.

The car jerked to the side and Alex saw it was now in the middle of the street…and moving faster. He looked behind him; plenty of space for it to pass through.

Then it clicked.

In that split second, Alex knew two things: the car was aiming to hit Charles. And he was the only one who realized it. The driver must have caught on to Alex's realization at that moment because the engine revved.

Alex bolted forward, crossing the remaining distance and tackled Charles, throwing an arm out to grab his brother, too. The three of them hit the ground, sliding a few inches and the car zoomed past a second later with a rush of air that was too damn close.

They all slowly sat up and then Erik was there, demanding to know what the hell he was thinking, was everyone okay, etc. Alex felt a hand on his arm and turned to meet shockingly blue eyes.

Charles said softly, "Thank you."

"What the hell happened?" Erik said again and he actually looked concerned.

Alex gestured vaguely in the direction the car took. "The car was aiming for Charles. I didn't have that much time to think. I just…reacted."

Scott threw an arm around his shoulders and tugged him close. "Good job, little brother."

Alex squirmed. He hated when Scott got all big brother on him like that in public.

"Thanks for saving my life, too," Scott added as he let go.

Alex felt his face heat and stood up quickly. "Yeah, well, it's my job, right?"

Scott squeezed his shoulder. "Right."

Erik helped Charles to his feet and asked, "You okay?"

Charles nodded, looking rather pale. "A couple scrapes is all."

Erik inquired, "Alex? Scott?"

The brothers exchanged looks. Scott said, "We're good, Erik."

Charles added, "We're lucky it wasn't worse, thanks to Alex."

"Okay," Alex said loudly, uncomfortable now, "can…can we go now? We're drawing attention."

The others looked around and Erik headed for the Tahoe, still gripping Charles' arm.

* * *

Erik returned from his run to find Xavier on the couch, scowling at the television. "What is it?"

Xavier glanced up at him briefly. "The reporters found out about last night's adventure. Though thankfully, there's no shot of me."

He sounded disgusted. Erik opened his mouth to say something when his cell phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket and sighed. Mason.

Erik slid the button across the screen. "Director, good morning."

"Why did I send you to New York?"

"Sir, it's not—"

"Because right now it looks like you're screwing up."

Erik moved to the kitchen for a little privacy, sparing a thought as to the location of the brothers. "Nothing happened, sir."

"Nothing. You want me to tell the President that his possible successor nearly died last night but that it was _nothing?!_ "

Erik winced. How the hell did Mason know it was Xavier?

"Sir, if you would just let me—"

Mason interrupted him, "I thought I could count on you to keep your personal feelings for the man aside. If you're doing less than your best for any reason, Erik, so help me…"

Erik bristled. "Sir, it was a busy Saturday evening and everyone and their dog was out last night. There was no way to tell that the driver of the car had nefarious plans until it was nearly on top of us. Alex saw, reacted accordingly, and the only result was a couple scrapes. Sir."

Mason was silent for a moment. "No more outings like this, Erik."

Erik only just kept from letting his breath out in relief. "No, sir. No more," he quickly agreed. Hopefully, Xavier would agree as well. Maybe after last night, he'd be a little more inclined to listen.

"Tell Summers good job. And I expect not to hear anything like this again, is that clear, Erik?"

Erik ran a hand through his sweaty hair. God, he needed a shower. "Understood, sir."

"Good." Mason hung up and Erik slowly lowered his phone. _Mason hatte ihn fast von der zuordnung übernommen. Das war ziemlich erschütterungen zu erkennen_ (Translation: Mason had almost taken him off the assignment. That was rather jarring to realize).

Xavier's voice broke the silence, tentatively asking, "Are you in trouble?"

Why did he care? He'd just get another agent to watch him. "No," he responded after a second. "Where are Scott and Alex?"

"War room." Xavier studied him.

It took Erik a minute to recognize the nickname Xavier had given the spare bedroom after seeing the setup. It was actually rather apt; he liked it, surprisingly enough. "I'm gonna take a shower. Any plans for the day I need to know about?"

Xavier shook his head, that thoughtful look still on his face. "Just some grading. I'm falling behind a bit. Oh, and Raven might stop by for a bit later on. If she's not too hungover."

Erik nodded and headed down the hall. He'd approach the no more outings rule later.


	6. Chapter 6

Erik led the way to the car, Xavier talking animatedly to the brothers behind him, and refrained from rolling his eyes. He seriously talked way too much and yet…there was something about the way he talked. A passion that made him light up. Erik shook his head, scowling. No need to think like that. Then his scowl deepened at the sight of a white piece of paper tucked under the windshield wiper of the Tahoe.

"Oh dear," Xavier said, coming up beside him. "Looks like Enforcement gave you a ticket."

"Shouldn't be too much of a problem explaining who we are to them," Scott said.

Erik walked around the other side and slid it out as Xavier said regretfully, "I don't believe it works that way, Scott."

Erik unfolded it, wondering if it would be enough to justify putting it on the expense report, and did a double take.

Blinked a couple times.

Read it again.

Erik's head snapped up and he whipped around, searching, hoping to find someone taking the slightest bit of interest in them.

"How bad is it?" Alex asked.

Xavier held out a hand. "Oh hand it over. I'll take care of it."

Erik folded it back up and said quickly, "It's fine. I'll pay it tomorrow."

"Erik, really, it's no problem. I've got the money," Xavier insisted.

But Scott had clearly heard or seen something in either Erik's voice or expression and said quietly, "It's not a ticket. Is it?"

Erik slowly shook his head, his fingers tightening on the paper. He saw Xavier start to pull his hand back, stop, then visibly steel himself and reach back out again.

Xavier asked calmly, "May I?"

Erik met his gaze, assessing. Xavier had proven to be full of surprises and Erik was impressed by his ability to keep going. Almost despite himself, Erik handed it over. He watched Xavier's eyes scan the words, once. Twice. His gaze snapped up to meet Erik's, his face now pale, and he slowly handed it to Alex.

Alex read it softly aloud. " _Drop out of the race or lose your life._ Holy shit…"

"In the car," Erik ordered and for once Xavier followed orders without questioning them. Maybe he was finally starting to get the seriousness of the situation. How the hell did they get to the car? One of the few places he didn't have a camera…did they know? Did whoever was behind this know where the cameras were? That was a worrying thought.

It only occurred to him as they were halfway to the apartment that he probably should have alerted the police. Not that they'd accomplished anything thus far.

Keep Xavier alive until the election. That was all that mattered.

* * *

Charles jumped at the sound of the body hitting the mats, again, and huffed out a breath. For goodness' sake, did they have to drag him along for this? He could be with Raven and her guards instead of trying to grade lab reports on the floor of the gym. This had become a regular occurrence and it seemed like every evening after that note appeared on the car, Erik had dragged them all down to the gym that the apartment complex had. Charles had access to it since he lived there but had never entered it. He was not exactly athletic material.

Erik had found it during one of his runs and the three agents came down every now and then for "training," Erik called it. Charles saw it as a way for them to hit each other without the other person getting mad. In fact, they seemed to welcome being beaten. He couldn't understand _why_ someone would willingly want to be hit.

Although…he had been starting to wonder if he maybe shouldn't learn at least the basics of self-defense, in light of the near hit-and-run. He was just waiting for them to split off into cardio or weightlifting or something so he could get Erik on his own to ask for some training. He had no clue what Erik's response would be so he preferred to do it without an audience. Even if he did like Scott and Alex. He was rather hoping they'd remain in touch after the election. Raven and Angel got on like a house on fire and he knew she'd miss her new friends terribly, too.

Charles returned to his grading, still flinching at the sounds of their sparring. After a few minutes, he lifted his head, twisted it from side to side to get the crick in his neck out. He closed his eyes as he rubbed his neck and when he opened them Erik was looking over at him. As soon as Charles met his gaze, Erik turned away. Charles frowned.

A few minutes later, Charles caught him doing it again. What in the world…? Then he caught Scott doing it, too!

It wasn't until Erik came over and informed him they were moving to another part of the gym that it clicked in Charles' head. Ever since that note a week ago, Erik hadn't been more than five feet from him. He was concerned. Worried, even, that one of those threats might actually come true. Charles smiled to himself as he hugged his papers to his chest. To have someone other than Raven actually concerned about his wellbeing was new and made him feel warm inside. Erik's constant glances meant that he was just checking to make sure Charles was still there, still safe, and he hadn't felt this warm in a long time.

Erik put a hand on his shoulder, pointed at a corner and ordered, "Sit."

Charles did object to being ordered about like a dog, though. "You could find me a chair, you know."

Erik lifted an eyebrow which disappeared as a lock of hair fell forward over his sweaty forehead. Charles noticed, jealous, that he wasn't even breathing hard. "I need you in my sightline and there's nowhere else to put you."

"I am a human being, you know, not a piece of furniture." Charles replied evenly.

Erik sighed. "Look, it's not like you can keep up and I know you have work to do."

"So teach me," Charles replied, taking a shot.

Erik looked blindsided. "What?"

"Teach me how to defend myself. Then you won't have to worry as much."

"No."

Charles blinked at the abruptness. He'd expected it, but still… "I'm sorry?"

Erik shook his head, brushed his hair aside absently. "No."

"Why the bloody hell why not?"

"Because with the three of us around, you shouldn't need to."

"Shouldn't," Charles repeated, angry. "But I might."

"You won't," Erik assured him.

"And if we're attacked and you get overwhelmed? What am I to do then?" He liked being underestimated but this went beyond that.

Erik leveled a glare at him. "Then you run."

Charles retorted, "I am far more capable of protecting myself than you give me credit for, Erik."

Erik opened his mouth only to shut it again and study him. Charles realized he may have just obliquely referred to his unfortunate childhood. He took a breath and said calmly, "Just the basics, Erik. That's all I'm asking for."

"The answer is no, Xavier." Erik turned away, clearly deciding the conversation was over.

Charles stared after him, feeling frustrated at being turned down so thoroughly. He frowned, thinking. There had to be a way around this. His eyes caught Scott and Alex over by the bench-press machine and smirked. He would just ask them for assistance.

* * *

The _smack_ of his fists hitting the bag was supremely satisfying, Erik decided, throwing another punch followed by a high kick. Xavier had been too accommodating the last couple days and he had the feeling the man was up to something, something Erik wasn't going to like. The no social outings discussion had gone well enough and Xavier had agreed to talk to his sister about it.

They were getting closer, the four of them. There was no getting around it, the amount of time they spent together over the past month. Erik already knew Xavier's routines, how he liked his tea, favorite books and movies, things like that. Hell, he was starting to actually understand Xavier's lectures! He hadn't known that much about his former partner. The most surprising thing about it was that Erik wasn't concerned. He didn't get close to people anymore, not in a long while.

The worst thing about exercising alone meant that you were then forced to deal with your thoughts, things that a person had no time to focus on during the day. Erik pounded the punching bag harder, driving his fists into it, feeling the sweat drip down his face and the back of his shirt. He blinked it away. Xavier got to him and, for the life of him, he couldn't figure out _why_.

Erik took a step back, catching his breath, and looked over at the spot on the wall Xavier had occupied for the past thirty minutes. Only to find he was no longer there. His papers were, as well as the empty spot where the professor should be. _Nein._ Not happening. He couldn't lose him; Xavier was there five minutes ago! Panic shot through him and Erik started searching the gym for him.

It took him less than ten minutes to find Xavier and when he did, his anger boiled over the edge.

He stalked over to the mats, feeling immeasurably pleased when Alex caught sight of him and blanched, stepping back quickly from where Scott was helping Charles throw a punch. "What the hell is going on here!" he snapped when he was a couple feet away.

Xavier and Scott jumped apart. Scott paled and looked at the ground, while Xavier turned red but defiantly met his gaze.

"You wouldn't teach me," Xavier explained, his tone obstinate but with a hint of uncertainty.

"So you went behind my back?" Erik's voice was coldly furious.

Scott started, "Erik, he just—"

Erik cut him off. "No. He'll explain." He kept his eyes on Xavier, crossing his arms.

Xavier glanced at Scott briefly, then turned back to meet Erik's gaze confidently but spoke with the barest hint of uncertainty. "You said you wouldn't train me to defend myself. I know you said that you would always be there to protect me, and I know that you believe that. I'd like to, too. But I'm also a bit of realist and I know that it's not possible for you to be at my side every second of every day. To that end, I need to be able to keep myself safe long enough for one of you to reach me, to keep myself from any undue harm."

The most frustrating thing right now was that Xavier made a good point. Erik couldn't be there all the time. And knowing how to defend himself was a valuable skill to have, he knew. Erik gritted his teeth, ran a hand through his hair, weighing pros and cons while Scott, Alex and Xavier stood there watching him and waiting for his response. He studied Xavier and saw, despite the bravado and confidence, that the events of the past few weeks had shaken him and he was more scared than he wanted to admit. That, more than anything, cinched it.

Erik finally sighed and pointed at Xavier. "You, come with me. Summers', you two stay here. We'll be another hour." And he walked off, not waiting to see if they listened, if Xavier actually followed.

He headed right for the track on the other side of the gym and stopped. After a few seconds, Xavier came up next to him.

Erik informed him, "You want to train? Fine; I'll train you. But we do this _my_ way, understand?" Xavier nodded and Erik continued, "It's a good thing you're in sweatpants because you're going to sweat." He took a perverse pleasure in the way Xavier's eyes drifted to the track and his face fell.

"Lesson #1: Cardio. I still maintain that your first response should be to run and you need to be able to go more than a few feet if need be."

Xavier's eyes flitted back to him. "But you will teach me to fight?"

"I will teach you to defend yourself," Erik corrected. "There's a difference. But you also need to be able to actually put some weight behind your moves. Hence the cardio and weightlifting."

Xavier nodded. "Okay."

Erik stepped out onto the track, Xavier following. "We'll take it easy for today; I'll run with you." He started jogging, setting a slower pace than he usually did, then had to slow even further so that he was level with Xavier.

Almost fifteen minutes later, they'd only managed four laps—one mile. Xavier panted, "Can we…stop…for a...second?"

Erik nodded after a moment and Xavier immediately stopped and bent over, hands on his knees as he gasped for breath, his upper body heaving as he struggled to breathe normally. Erik jogged in place a bit, shaking his head. "You are woefully out of shape, Xavier."

"I'm starting…to realize…that…myself."

"Look at the bright side."

Xavier glanced up at him. "What…bright side?"

"We know how long it takes you to run a mile." He laughed again at the halfhearted glare Xavier shot him.

He gave the professor a couple minutes to catch his breath then nudged his shoulder. "Come on. We've still got forty minutes left."

"Oh god," Xavier moaned as he straightened up.

Erik laughed as he set off again, Xavier stumbling after him. This was going to be fun.


	7. Chapter 7

**I know this is super late, but finals and the end of the semester kicked my butt. Plus holiday shopping...and I had a request to fulfill. So this next chapter is (hopefully) what you wanted Silvanchild as well as what I originally had written.**

 **Thank you to all who follow/favorite or are just happily reading along. It's much appreciated.**

 **This one's also a bit longer because I added some parts after it was written. Hopefully it doesn't disrupt the flow all that much. Also, it's an especially long one this time and I hope it flows well.**

* * *

Charles stood facing a punching bag in the apartment's gym, wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. He cut a glance to his right, where Erik stood with his arms crossed, a mulish tint to his expression. "You want me to what?" Charles asked, surprised.

"Hit it," Erik stated.

"Why?"

"You say you know how to punch, that Scott showed you a bit. Prove it." Erik gestured towards the punching bag. "Throw a punch. Show me what I'm working with."

Charles frowned at him but turned back to study the faded red leather bag dangling in front of him. _You asked for this_ , he reminded himself. Taking a quick breath, Charles folded the fingers of his right hand into a fist and swung.

The bag moved a fraction of an inch.

Erik huffed and came over. "Well, that was pathetic." Charles glared at him. "Make a fist for me."

Charles lifted an eyebrow questioningly but did it anyway. Erik _tsk_ ed. "That's a good way to break your thumb."

"Excuse me?"

Erik took his hand and rearranged his fingers so that his thumb was resting against the outside of his index finger. "Make a fist like this; that way you won't break your thumb. Plus you'll be able to dig the nail into the skin; add a little extra pain to the hit."

Intrigued, Charles did the same with his left hand, studying his hands. He'd never made a fist this way. Then Erik said, "Slide your feet apart; one in front, one in back."

When Charles threw him another questioning look, Erik demonstrated. Glancing down, Charles copied him. He really had no clue what he was doing, apparently.

Erik's hands on his hips took him by surprise. He half-twisted around. "What are you doing?"

"Showing you how to actually put some power behind your punches." Erik's voice was matter of fact, showing that he had no idea that his touch set fire to Charles' skin like he'd never felt before. "Face forward." Charles did and Erik said, "This is your ready stance. Remember how it feels, what it looks like, so you'll be able to do it again on your own. Now, when you swing at the bag, step forward with your left foot and throw your whole body into it. Like this." Erik managed to twist Charles back and then forward, Charles' hand landing to rest gently against the leather. "Now you try," he said, stepping back.

Already Charles missed his touch but he forced himself back to the task at hand. He curled his right hand into a fist, like Erik showed him, brought his arm back—making sure to twist his body—then stepped forward.

The punching bag bounced backwards, bowing inwards a bit where his fist had hit it, and Charles let out a delighted laugh. He turned, sought Erik's gaze and beamed. "I did it!"

Erik nodded, no expression on his face. "Do it again."

Feeling a bit deflated at Erik's lack of emotion, Charles turned around and swung again. Erik had him do five more with his right hand before making him switch to his left. That was incredibly awkward and did not go nearly as well.

But he was getting it.

* * *

Charles was seriously regretting his decision to ask Erik for training. That first week had been a lot of running and lifting weights and he was almost positive he didn't have any muscles anymore. Combine that with punching a leather bag and the skin of his knuckles were red and raw. That first night he'd come back to the apartment, flopped on the couch and refused to move. And Erik had laughed at him, enjoying his pain. Scott and Alex were sympathetic, though, offering ice and tea. And painkillers. Lots and lots of painkillers.

* * *

Xavier was definitely getting better. He wasn't at the level of the agents, but he was doing okay for a professor. Erik watched with approval as he threw a few punches in rapid succession, alternating left and right as Erik had instructed. He was a quick learner, something Erik hadn't anticipated.

He also didn't complain when Erik informed him he was doing it wrong, another thing Erik grudgingly approved of. So Erik pushed him, dragging him out of bed early to go on runs, dragging him to the gym for lessons. Xavier stopped for a breath, pushing his sweaty hair off his forehead, and Erik called him over to the mats.

Xavier came to a stop in front of him, looking equal parts curious and wary. Erik bit back an amused smile. "Time to move on." He bent down and picked up a pair of punching shields which he slid his hands into. Erik settled his feet firmly on the mat, making sure he was balanced, and held up his hands. Xavier looked faintly alarmed as Erik said, "A smaller target—try to hit the shields. And don't hold back."

"What if I miss?"

Erik shrugged. What did he care? "I've been hit before." He slapped the shields together and held them out once more.

Xavier slowly lowered into the ready stance Erik had shown him, raised his hands and hesitated. "Are you sure about this?"

Erik gritted his teeth. "Would I be doing this if I wasn't…Don't answer that. Yes, I'm sure."

Xavier bit his lip, clearly uncertain, but swung anyway.

Erik scowled at him. He didn't even feel it. "Harder."

Xavier tried again and it glanced off the edge. Erik's voice lowered as he ordered, "Damn it, punch like you mean it!"

Xavier huffed but Erik watched as he bounced slightly before shifting his weight, drawing his arm back and— _finally_. He felt that one.

Erik nodded. "There we go. Again!"

This one glanced off the top and Xavier frowned. Now Erik knew he was invested. He swung again, quicker this time, and landed square in the middle.

"Left hand," Erik ordered and Xavier obligingly shifted.

Three punches later, Erik switched him back to his right. He missed. Erik snapped, "Try again."

Xavier scowled at him but thankfully refrained from saying anything, instead trying again.

After that, Erik varied the switches—left, left, right, left, right, right, right, left, right. Again and again, trying to get him to get the feel of switching between directions.

When it looked like he was tiring, Erik straightened, lowering his hands. "Go drink some water; cool down. We're done for tonight."

Xavier only nodded, breathing heavily, and turned away. Erik debated with himself for a minute before calling after him, "Xavier!" He turned around. "Good work."

Xavier gave him a blindingly bright smile and headed for his things along the wall, a little bounce in his step. Erik followed after a moment, wondering why that smile made him feel a little nauseated.

* * *

The next week, Erik had changed it up. Instead of running the track inside, he "invited" Charles to run with him early in the morning every other day. Running outside was almost worse, though, Charles thought. On the track, it was level and just one giant circle, no weather to worry about. Outside on the sidewalk…it was bumpy, noisy, there was weather to deal with, traffic, it was hilly—my god it was hilly, more so than he'd ever realized. Erik would turn in random directions, not following any sort of path that Charles could divine, around corners and around people, and, of course, that one horrible morning Erik had made him run up a set of steps in the park. Charles had begged for a break after that one. But…thinking back on it now, he had noticed he was getting better. Less out of breath.

* * *

Charles was currently texting Kevin, trying to explain that he couldn't make it to their date this Saturday. Not only was he absolutely exhausted from training, but he was now behind on his grading and lesson plans. And, of course, Erik had overruled any objections and told him no more outings unless they were campaign- or school-related, so. Pretty much ruled out date night. Which Kevin did not like but what could he do? Charles sighed. He hadn't envisioned this many complications in his life when he decided to run for the presidency. He'd only been thinking of the good he could do.

He glanced at the clock and sighed again. After midnight. His phone buzzed finally and he opened it to see what Kevin had said to his apology.

He stared at his phone for a good few minutes before it sunk in. _What?_

Kevin's text read:

 _I can't do this anymore, Charles. You're always busy and_

 _I feel like I'm the last thing on your mind when you're_

 _the first on mine. I'm sorry, but I have to end this._

 _Goodbye. Good luck with the campaign._

Charles blinked a few times. "Did I just get dumped, over text?" he said, his voice filled with disbelief. _Oh my god, I just got dumped_. He lowered the phone, still staring at it blankly.

After a few minutes he left his bedroom and walked down the hall. He stood in the living room for a bit, smiling slightly at the sight of Alex passed out on the couch. Scott and Erik were in the war room, having bought a cot for the third person to use.

Charles entered the kitchen, intending to make some tea and sit for a bit. He knew the whistle of the teapot wouldn't wake Alex so he filled it and set it to steep. When it started whistling, he got out his favorite mug, filled it, added milk and sugar and sat at the table, staring out at nothing and trying to figure out just where he went wrong in his relationship with Kevin. Why did Kevin never say anything before now?

His thoughts spiraled for a while as he sat and drank. It hurt, being broken up with, but not as hurt as he'd thought he'd be. That was a revelation, he realized, setting his mug down. Was he not in love with Kevin? Had he not been for a while? Is that why this didn't hurt?

"What are you doing up?" a quiet voice broke into his thoughts and he looked round to see Erik standing there in his pajamas.

* * *

"I could ask the same thing of you," Xavier responded, quiet.

Erik replied, "My watch."

"Oh," and Xavier turned back to his contemplation of his cup.

Erik studied him. Something wasn't right. Xavier didn't normally stay up this late, nor was he usually this closemouthed. He moved to the kitchen and made a quick cup of coffee then came back to join the professor. For some reason, he wanted to know what was wrong; wanted to fix it. "All right," he said finally. "What is it?"

Xavier looked up, startled. "Hmm?"

"What's on your mind?" Perhaps he should've eased into it, but that wasn't his way.

Xavier just smiled a little and shook his head. "Couldn't sleep."

"Why not?"

He shrugged but didn't answer. Erik took a sip of his coffee, trying to wake up enough to try and figure this out. Xavier talked all the time, and when he didn't was a cause for concern. The fact that he didn't immediately answer was a bit more worrying than Erik had thought it would be. His gaze landed on a chess board on the bookshelf and smiled to himself. That'd do the trick.

Xavier didn't react when he got up to get the board and box of pieces; not until Erik spilled the pieces onto the table. Then he looked up, confused.

Erik shrugged as he pulled out the chair next to Xavier. "You can't sleep; I'm on duty. Fancy a game?"

Xavier smiled faintly, reaching out to grab the white queen. "I didn't know you played."

He started setting up the black pieces, guessing that Xavier had chosen white. "Used to play with my former partner. Now Scott plays with me occasionally."

Xavier started setting up his own pieces. "I used to play with Raven, but she's really not a fan of the game. I usually play online, nowadays."

Erik nodded, leaning back and reaching for his coffee. "White goes first."

Xavier slid a pawn across two squares. Erik did the same and they played for a couple minutes before he ventured into conversation again. "Feel like telling me what's wrong?"

Focused on the board, Xavier didn't respond for a minute. "Nothing's wrong, really. Just…a bit surprising, I suppose." Erik waited. Xavier moved a knight before informing him quietly, "Kevin broke up with me."

Erik stared at him. Of all the things he'd been thinking, that had not been one of them. Crap, what did one say to that? "I'm sorry?" he ventured.

Xavier glanced up at him briefly. "The strange thing is…I'm not really that affected by it. I mean, yes, it does majorly suck to be dumped by text, but I feel like I should feel worse, you know? Does that make me a bad person?"

Erik was grateful it was his move. Xavier, a bad person? "Never." Shit. That was a kneejerk response. But Xavier chuckled.

"Thank you for that, my friend." Xavier took a sip of his tea. "I suppose you'll prefer it this way, not having to worry about my going out on dates."

Erik asked, "Is that why he dumped you?"

"One of the reasons. Not being able to go out as often as he liked; or at all. I didn't treat him as well as I should have, I realize that now."

"Bullshit," Erik retorted. "If someone wants to be with you, they'll find a way. Did the two of you never think of having date night in? Rent a movie and order takeout or cook something here?"

Xavier stared at him, his blue eyes bright. "I can't believe that never came up. We just always went out."

"Then screw him. He clearly needed you more than you needed him." _Wait, when did I start giving out relationship advice?_

"I suppose I always have been rather self-sufficient when it comes to love," Xavier mused, toggling his bishop back and forth on a square. "Other than Raven, obviously."

"You two are closer than other siblings I've seen," Erik noted.

"Probably because we are, despite not being related. The day my parents adopted her was one of the best days of my life," Xavier said with a fond smile.

"Were you always this close?"

"Not really. I basically raised her but we weren't close like this until my mother remarried. Kurt was…difficult, to live with. His son, more so."

Erik frowned. "Cain, right?"

"Yes."

"I take it you two didn't get along." He was fishing for information but clearly Xavier didn't realize.

Xavier finally moved the bishop. "That would be an understatement. From the second we met, Cain hated me. Never could figure out why. Kurt wasn't all that enamored of us, either. He only married my mother for our money, though I don't think she ever realized that."

Erik studied the board and planned his next move, both in chess and in the conversation. That was twice now Xavier had mentioned taking care of himself growing up. "You don't mention the rest of your family much."

Xavier shrugged. "They're not important. My stepfather and stepbrother were never family to me, and my mother drifted off once my father died."

"I know the feeling. I lost my parents when I was a teenager."

"Oh, Erik. I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"They were killed by a drunk driver. Heading home from somewhere and the other car plowed right into them. I still have nightmares about arriving at the scene." Erik stopped, choked up suddenly. His hand hovered over the pieces on the board. He'd never voluntarily told anyone about his parents.

A hand rested gently on top of his other hand and he met Xavier's gentle, concerned gaze. "Oh, Erik. That's horrible; I'm so terribly sorry to hear that."

Erik cleared his throat. "It was years ago."

"Yes, but the pain never truly fades, does it," Xavier said softly, knowingly.

"Your father?"

"I was too young to remember his death but that doesn't mean I don't miss him. I don't feel it as much as you do, but then, I had other things to deal with."

Erik tilted his head. "Like what?"

Xavier pulled his hand back and took a drink of his tea, winced. "Cold tea, ugh." In a falsely bright tone, he said, "Is it your move or mine?"

He narrowed his eyes, suspecting something bad if Xavier was avoiding it. Especially with the previous mention of his stepfamily's dislike. "Mine. Like _what_ , Xavier?"

"You don't like me, do you, Erik?"

"What?" Erik blinked, blindsided.

Xavier repeated, "You don't like me, do you?"

"That's a loaded question."

Xavier chuckled a little. "But you don't."

"Is that a question or a statement?"

Xavier shrugged. "It's just, well, you never use my first name. Everyone else does, but you never do. Why is that? Have I done something to offend you?" He seemed truly in earnest.

"No. It's not you." _I don't think you could offend me if you tried._ "I try not to get personal with assignments. Ends up badly for all involved."

Xavier tilted his head. "Did something happen?"

Erik shook his head, pointed at him. "We're talking about your past, not mine."

"We could talk about yours, if you like."

"Another time. For now, I am growing increasingly interested in yours."

Xavier looked down. "It's not something I like to share."

"I won't tell anyone," Erik promised, despite himself. He meant it, too. Damn, he was getting far too fond of the professor.

Xavier met his eyes for a long moment. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find it for he said, "Kurt was a stickler for rules, only they seemed to change to suit him. Whenever I did something he didn't like or broke a rule—and that happened more often than you would think—he hit me. Mostly with his hand, but other things as well. Tried to hit Raven too, but I soon stopped that, taking the blows meant for her. Cain joined in once we were older; he was built much more solidly than I was. Am. Mother either wouldn't do anything or she didn't know so I protected Raven as best I could. As soon as I was old enough, I left. Took her with me when I could." Charles shrugged, sipped at his tea, despite his earlier statement of its temperature. "Your move, I think, Erik."

Erik could only stare, his mouth hanging open. When he finally spoke, what came out was not what he'd expected. "How did you turn out so nice?"

Charles turned red. "Um, thank you? I suppose I have Raven and my friends to thank for that."

"This is why you're so sure you can defend yourself," Erik said slowly. "Because you're used to doing it."

"Do you mind if we change the subject now? I don't really like thinking on that time if I can."

Erik could readily understand why. "Of course." He moved a piece and chose a lighter topic. "Favorite book?"

Charles grinned. "Sure you have time for the list?"

Erik returned the grin. "If you have time for mine."

Charles' eyes sparkled, something Erik realized he'd missed. They continued to talk as they played. Having shared secrets like those melted some of the barriers between them.

"Check mate," Erik said triumphantly some time later.

Charles twisted his mouth wryly and tipped his king over. "Well done, my friend. I haven't lost in a while."

"Next time." He glanced at the clock. "You should get some sleep before you have to teach tomorrow."

"Today, I think," Charles said with a smile but got to his feet just the same. "Thank you, Erik. For the game, and for listening."

"My pleasure, Charles. Goodnight." Erik started to clean up the chess game and so missed the fact that Charles smiled widely, blushing.

Charles replied softly, "Goodnight, Erik."

* * *

Charles landed flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him.

Erik's face entered his field of vision. "You okay to keep going?"

Charles sat up slowly, the world spinning a bit. "How many times is it now?"

"Five. You okay?"

Charles ran a hand through his sweaty hair. Erik's concern would be more touching if he hadn't been the reason Charles kept landing on his back. "Let's keep going."

Erik offered him a hand up—which he accepted. "You're getting better, if it helps," Erik offered. "I'm not knocking you down nearly as quickly."

"Gee, thanks," Charles muttered. "That's great for my confidence."

Erik bumped his shoulder lightly. "For someone who's never had to hit another person before, you're doing great. Come on; one more round and then we'll head upstairs."

Charles bit back a groan as he moved his aching body into position, fists raised. He'd never had so much physical exercise in his entire life as he had these past three weeks. First the running, then the weightlifting, then punching and kicking and learning how to fall. He'd been sparring with Erik now for a few days, with occasional rounds with Alex or Scott. Surprisingly, Erik was nicer to him during this time than he was all day.

Erik's fist flashed past his face in a rush of wind. "How many times do I have to tell you to pay attention?"

Charles blinked. "Sorry. I was thinking."

"I know. Stop it. Fighting is more instinct than anything; just let yourself feel it."

Erik got strangely philosophical during their lessons, too. Charles took a breath and nodded. Erik's hand flew at him and Charles ducked, sliding to the right and raising his left hand to block the next blow.

Erik nodded in approval of the tactic even as Charles tried a right. He knew there were technical terms for them but Erik had only focused on connecting punches. Erik dodged it and slipped around his side. Charles turned with him and got nailed in the side.

He lost his breath for a moment and Erik instructed, "Watch my chest. I told you; that will tell you about your opponent's next move much more clearly than watching his hands or face. It'll give you a few extra seconds to make a move; seconds that could save your life."

Charles was going to hear Erik's speeches in his dreams, he was almost 100% sure of that.

They kept going, Erik landing more hits, Charles landing every one in five or so hits. Every now and then, Erik would throw out a kick and Charles' concentration would falter. Charles didn't even bother attempting to kick him, knowing that would throw him off balance.

Then, eventually, he threw a punch, managed to hit Erik's left shoulder but missed Erik's foot coming out of nowhere and he landed on his back again with a _thump_.

Erik chuckled from above him. "I think that was your best round yet."

Charles took the proffered hand and got to his feet with Erik's help. He rubbed the back of his head a tad ruefully. "You do realize it hurts to fall, right?"

"Yup." Erik walked off the mat and Charles followed, a bit slower. Erik tossed him a water bottle and he drank half of it in one go.

"Am I really getting better?" he asked, trying not to sound like he was fishing for a compliment.

Erik lowered the water bottle and nodded. "You are. You're a quick learner, take criticism well, and you actually have a bit of natural ability. You're doing fine, Charles."

His stomach flipped at Erik's use of his first name. He did it so rarely that Charles treasured every instance. It was funny how Charles was noticing all of these reactions he was having when he was around Erik that he hadn't noticed before. Maybe it was because he and Kevin were no longer together but Charles felt almost drawn towards Erik, like the agent was some sort of magnet Charles couldn't stay away from.

They gathered up the brothers and headed upstairs to his apartment in comfortable silence, broken only by the intermittent bickering of Scott and Alex.

"For the love of god, _shut up_!" Erik finally shouted over his shoulder as they approached his apartment door and Charles bit back a grin. Erik's patience had clearly snapped.

Charles dug his keys out and opened the door, noticing the white envelope on the carpet as he did so. "Hmm, wonder if someone else got my mail…" he mused, kneeling down to pick it up.

Erik barked quickly, "Don't touch it!"

Charles looked up at him, startled, his hand hovering inches above the paper. "What? Why not?"

Erik wrapped a hand around his upper arm and hauled him to his feet. "Would you listen when I tell you to do something? Preferably without questioning it or complaining?"

He sounded faintly exasperated and Charles grinned up at him. "If I did that, we would never talk." The corners of Erik's mouth twitched slightly and Charles knew he was trying not to smile.

Scott grabbed a tissue and picked up the envelope, opening it carefully without touching it. Charles watched, intrigued and a bit annoyed that they were opening a letter clearly addressed to him.

Scott pulled the paper out of the envelope, unfolded it, read it, and then silently handed it to Erik. Charles leaned over to read it and his mouth dropped open.

Erik said curtly, "Call the girls. I want a sit rep, now."

Scott was already on the phone. Alex said, "Erik? What's it say?"

"It's another one like we found on the hood of the car on campus," Erik said, pulling Charles further into the room and slamming the door shut. "Only this time it says if Charles doesn't drop out, they'll go after his sister."

* * *

 **Happy Holidays, everyone!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry, again, for the lateness. I work at a museum and it's been seriously insane with visitors.**

* * *

 **Sorry, this chapter as been reposted with updates. Missy the Least pointed out something that I hadn't even realized I'd messed up, so thank you Missy.**

* * *

Ever since that night they'd played chess together, Xavier had decided that they were suddenly best friends. Erik hadn't thought it possible, but Xavier talked even more than before. And the weird thing was…Erik was starting to enjoy the background noise of the other man's voice. Was enjoying his company. They were in the gym, stretching before a run, when Xavier abruptly asked, "How'd you become a Secret Service agent, Erik?"

Erik replied shortly, "I applied. They accepted."

Xavier laughed. "No, really. How?"

Erik straightened. "You ready?" he asked, avoiding the question.

"Almost," he replied.

Erik waited and Xavier stood a minute later. They headed for the track and managed to run silently for the first mile before the other man repeated his question. Erik shook his head and said, "You're not one to give up easily, are you?"

"Not really, no. So how did you join?"

Erik huffed, but answered, "I knew someone who was an agent at the time. He approached me at school, said he saw something in me and invited me to join him in America, join the Secret Service." He shrugged. "I didn't really have anything better to do with my life at that point so I came." Xavier was surprised, Erik could tell. "So that's my story," Erik finished.

But of course Xavier wanted more. "That was a wonderfully short story that told me nothing about you at all. Want to try again?"

Erik shot him a quick glance, but Xavier was focused on the track. Eh, what the hell. "I'd just finished my degree in engineering, was living in my parents' old house when I met Sebastian. He was…different, than anyone else I'd known. Had that worldly quality to him, you know? Anyway, I ended up helping him out and he offered me a job here in the States. My parents had died by then so I was alone, not really sure what to do with my life so I agreed. I left Germany, and home, behind for the Secret Service and never looked back."

After a moment, Charles said quietly, "I'm sorry your mother never got to see you as a man."

"Me too. At least you've got Raven," Erik said quietly, unsure how to proceed. Charles' responses were unpredictable.

But Xavier just smiled. "I do."

A few minutes later, Xavier asked another question. "So, be honest: what was your first thought when you were assigned to my protection detail?"

Erik shot him a glance as they rounded the corner of the track. Charles was keeping up nicely so he gradually increased the pace as they hit the straight section. "Honestly?" Charles nodded. "Not good. I figured your running was some kind of PR stunt; that there was no way in hell you could ever handle running a country."

Charles huffed a laugh. "I did ask for honestly, didn't I? And now that you've met me?"

Erik gave it a couple minutes, working out an appropriate response. After all, it wasn't like he could just blurt out that he was having trouble keeping things professional. Charles was nothing like he'd thought. Charles was bright, and cheerful, and brave, and handsome, and strong, and… _ah scheiße_ (translation: ah, shit).

"Erik." Charles said and he got the feeling it wasn't the first time.

He shook his head and replied, "What?"

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Charles hesitated a second. "Well, it's just…you haven't answered my question plus we've slowed down considerably which is a tad worrying considering the fact that you've been forcing me to run faster and faster every time we round a corner."

 _Ficken_ (translation: fuck). "Sorry. Just thinking." Erik forced himself to pick up the pace, and if it was the fastest they'd gone that day, Charles didn't say anything.

Thankfully, Xavier dropped the subject and they finished their run in surprisingly companionable silence, despite the heavy discussion.

They were headed over to join Scott and Alex when Charles abruptly asked, "Could I do it, do you think?"

Without looking over, Erik replied, "Do what?"

"Be President."

Erik stopped so quickly it took Charles a few steps to catch on and turn to face him. His tone serious, Erik told him, "I have no doubts whatsoever that you would make a fantastic President, Charles."

Charles turned bright red. In a small voice, he answered, "Truly?"

 _Gott hilf mir, ich denke ich bin auf ihn fallen_ (translation: God help me, I think I'm falling for him), Erik thought but said, "Truly."

Their eyes met and locked for a moment. Erik felt an undeniable spark and a tug low in his gut. Mentally shaking it off, he said brusquely, "Let's go. I'm sure you have grading to get to." He started off again, not looking at Charles as he did. _Shit shit shit_ …kept repeating in his head.

* * *

 **Author's note: sorry, had to put Charles' pov of the scene in**

They were getting ready for their usual night run, stretching along the wall. Charles kept sneaking glances at the agent, wondering about him. About his past, his family, how he ended up where he is…Abruptly, he asked, "How'd you become a Secret Service agent, Erik?"

"I applied. They accepted."

He laughed a little. "No, really," he responded. "How?" He truly wanted to know. One of the great mysteries that was Erik.

Erik got to his feet. "You ready?"

Avoiding the question, of course. "Almost," Charles replied, from a slightly perverse need to make him wait. He gave it another minute before standing as well and they started jogging, the only ones using it then. Charles wondered how long before he should ask again. He gave it a mile and repeated it.

Erik shook his head and said, "You're not one to give up easily, are you?"

"Not really, no." _Not when the mystery I'm trying to solve is you_ , he thought. "So how did you join?"

Erik huffed but did actually answer. Sort of. "I knew someone who was an agent at the time. He approached me at school, said he saw something in me and invited me to join him in America, join the Secret Service." He shrugged. "I didn't really have anything better to do with my life at that point so I came." Charles gaped at him in surprise and Erik finished with, "So that's my story."

That was his story? That told him nothing! _Looks like I'm going to have to push._ "That was a wonderfully short story that told me nothing about you at all. Want to try again?"

Erik took a moment but this time added some more personal details, ones Charles desperately wanted. "I'd just finished my degree in engineering, living in my parents' old house when I met Sebastian. He was…different, than anyone else I'd known. Had that worldly quality to him, you know? Anyway, I ended up helping him out and he offered me a job here in the States. My parents had died by then so I was alone, not really sure what to do with my life so I agreed. I left Germany, and home, behind for the Secret Service and never looked back."

After a moment, Charles asked quietly, "I'm sorry your mother never got to see you as a man."

"Me, too. At least you've got Raven," Erik said quietly.

Charles couldn't help the smile that bloomed across his face at the mention of his sister. Raven was a miracle, honestly, and such a light in his life. He couldn't imagine doing this without her. "I do," he said softly.

He let Erik relax, understanding somehow that he didn't share easily. But he was still deeply curious about the other man so the next question nearly popped out of him. "So, be honest: what was your first thought when you were assigned to my protection detail?"

Erik shot him a glance as they rounded the corner of the track. Charles couldn't tell what it meant. Then Erik increased their pace and Charles inwardly groaned. Yes, he was doing better but he still hated running in circles. "Honestly?" Charles nodded, curious. "Not good. I figured your running was some kind of PR stunt; that there was no way in hell you could ever handle running a country."

Well now….that hurt a bit. Charles huffed a laugh. "I did ask for honestly, didn't I? And now that you've met me?"

Erik didn't respond for a bit, didn't look at him and he suspected he'd touched a nerve or something. _Perhaps I should apologize_. "Erik?"

Nothing. He tried again, "Erik." A third time. "Erik."

Erik suddenly shook his head and snapped, "What?"

Charles ventured, "Is everything all right?" _Please tell me I haven't ruined things between us already._

"Yeah. Why?"

 _Crap. Crap crap crap_. "Well, it's just…you haven't answered my question plus we've slowed down considerably which is a tad worrying considering the fact that you've been forcing me to run faster and faster every time we round a corner."

"Sorry. Just thinking." Erik ran faster, faster than before, actually, but Charles chose not to say anything for a while, letting the silence relax things between them for the rest of the run.

But he still wondered about Erik's opinion of him now. He'd said, oh what was the wording? No way in hell he could handle running a country. Was that what Erik thought of him still or had the past few weeks changed his mind? They were walking over to join Scott and Alex when it burst out of him. "Could I do it, do you think?" _Shit. Too late to take it back_.

"Do what?" Erik answered absently.

"Be President." Charles didn't know why but he needed Erik to say yes, to say that he believed in Charles. Then he realized Erik wasn't next to him anymore and turned around, an eyebrow raised.

"I have no doubts whatsoever that you would make a fantastic President, Charles," Erik said very seriously.

Charles turned bright red. _Oh_. And yet…"Truly?" he asked, his voice sounding small to him.

Erik's gaze was steady on him as he responded, "Truly."

There! That spark…Charles had been feeling attracted to Erik for a while now but he'd never once considered that Erik might return the feeling.

Erik said brusquely, "Let's go. I'm sure you have grading to get to." He started off again, not looking at Charles as he did.

Charles trailed after him, thinking furiously. If Erik felt even a smidgeon of attraction to him…maybe Raven would have some ideas.

* * *

Erik's phone buzzed in his pocket and he stepped up to whisper in Charles' ear, "I'll be right back." Charles nodded and continued his conversation with the businessmen in front of him. He took a few steps away for privacy and answered it. "Lensherr…whoa, Jean, slow down. You're talking too fast. Take a breath. Okay, now. What happened? And slowly." As she filled him in, he waved the brothers over. "Okay. Text me the address; we'll meet you there."

"What's going on?" Alex asked, frowning.

"That was Jean. Raven's in the hospital." They looked about as he felt. This wasn't supposed to happen, damn it; they were supposed to keep her safe! Erik took a breath, ordered them to stay put and went to grab Charles. Tapping him on the shoulder quickly garnered him Charles' undivided attention and Erik lost his train of thought briefly when he met those blue eyes.

"What is it, Erik?" Charles asked concernedly.

 _Reiß dich zusammen, Erik!_ (translation: Get a grip, Erik!). "We have to leave. Now," he said, trying to keep the urgency out of his tone and clearly failing at the look on Charles' face. It was a mark of how close they'd gotten that Charles immediately turned and apologized to his group then walked over to the brothers with him. As they headed out the door, Erik tossed the keys to Alex and ordered, "Get the car." He blinked as Alex ran off, something glinting in the sunlight at just the right angle to hit his eyes.

"Erik, what's happened? Why are we leaving?" Charles finally asked as they stood on the sidewalk, waiting for Alex to return.

Erik shifted as the light blinded him again, and frowned. Something wasn't quite right…

"Erik? Scott, do you know?" Charles tried again to get an answer.

Erik frowned, studying the light source intently. _Looks like the sun's hitting something long…and…cylindrical?_ _Shit_. It clicked in his brain and he shouted, "Down!" even as he shoved Charles to the side, knocking him into Scott and they all hit the ground.

A second later a bullet slammed into the door behind them right where Charles' head was. Would've been.

"Oh my god," Charles breathed, sitting up, his face pale.

Erik shoved him back down, made them crawl over to hide behind a car parked at the curb. "Stay down," he ordered quietly and drew his gun. He started to his feet, intending to use the car windows to see—

 _Crash!_ He dropped back down as the window shattered, glass shards raining down upon his shoulders. Swearing, Erik brushed it off. "Scott, can you see? I can't figure out where he's shooting from."

Scott got to his knees only to dive back down a moment later as the back window shattered.

" _Ficken_ ," Erik muttered.

Charles spoke up, his voice shaking. "Okay, I don't know German all that well, but that doesn't sound good."

Erik glanced at him. Charles was sitting with his back against the tire, arms around his legs, face pale. He met Erik's gaze. "I promised to protect you, Charles. Don't worry." Then he remembered: Alex. He put a hand to his ear and said into the comm, "Alex, building across the street, twelfth or so floor. Get there now, find that damn shooter."

"On it," Alex responded and Erik settled himself more comfortably, dropping his free hand onto Charles' shoulder and squeezing lightly. Charles placed a hand on top of Erik's; he was shaking a little.

Scott murmured, "Be careful, Alex."

"Chill, bro. I got this."

Erik debated trying to get another look, draw the shooter's attention. He shared a look with Scott. Scott shifted to the left, drew his gun and jumped up, firing through the window quickly and dropping back down. Plaster exploded from the wall behind them. Charles flinched and Erik tightened his grip on the other man's shoulder.

A few minutes later, Alex's voice buzzed in his ear, "Got him. You're good to go."

"Good job, Alex," Erik said in relief. The three of them stood up, Erik and Scott holstering their guns. "Scott, call the police. Can you and Alex handle things here while I check in with Jean?"

Scott nodded. "Yeah. Go."

Erik nodded, said, "Meet us at the hospital when you're finished here," and headed for the car, knowing Charles would follow.

Charles suddenly asked, "Hospital? Is Raven okay?"

Erik did not want to answer that question right then. "Alex, where'd you leave the keys?"

"Driver's seat," Alex said, a bit breathy.

"Erik," Charles persisted, catching up to him. "What's going on?"

Erik kept walking, continually scanning the area for more threats. It wasn't until they'd reached the car and he was checking it to be sure it was safe to drive when Charles demanded, "Is my sister okay?" Sounding panicked, Charles said, "Is she…is Raven alive?"

Erik took him by the arm and dragged him around to the passenger side door where he calmly informed Charles, "Jean called and said she slipped and was unconscious. It's probably nothing but they're taking her to the hospital just in case." That seemed to appease Charles so when Erik opened the door, he got in.

* * *

Charles was incredibly grateful to have Erik at his side right then. He was such a calming presence, a good counterpoint to the panic he was feeling at the moment. Raven was hurt. He couldn't lose her; she was everything to him. Erik parked and Charles was out and hurrying for the door before the car was fully shut off. Erik caught up to him easily but didn't say anything. Perhaps he understood how Charles was feeling.

He pushed his way through the swivel doors and hurried over to the reception desk. "Raven Xavier, what room is she in?"

The middle-aged woman at the desk looked up and said in a bored tone, "Can I help you, sir?"

"My sister," he repeated urgently. "Raven Xavier, where is she?"

Erik stepped in, putting a hand on his shoulder, speaking calmly. "A young blonde woman, she was brought in an hour ago by two other women, one a redhead, the other Latina. Raven Xavier was her name. Could you tell us if she's been admitted?"

The receptionist smiled at Erik and turned to her computer. Charles wrung his hands. _Please let her be all right, please let her be all right, please_ —

"Ah, yes. She's been admitted. You're her brother, you said?" When he nodded, she handed over two visitor's badges and said, "Seventh floor, go on up."

"Thank you," Charles breathed and rushed for the elevator, nearly shutting the door on Erik in the process.

Muzak filled the small space and Erik said, "Stop pacing."

"I can't help it."

"Freaking out is not going to help Raven. It will only freak her out more, so take a moment now to calm yourself down."

Charles turned to him. "Do you not understand that Raven is all I've got? She's the only family I have, the only one I've ever been able to depend on! If something's happened to her because of me…" he trailed off, his imagination messing with him. He could just see it now: Raven lying in a hospital bed, unconscious, covered in blood…all because of him.

An arm snaked around his shoulders, and he found himself pressed against Erik's chest. That was also when he realized he was crying a bit.

Erik rubbed his back. "Your sister is going to be fine. This is just a precaution."

Charles took a shaky breath, clinging to Erik's shirt. Rather out of character for Erik, but much appreciated nonetheless. It was nice to be held, for once, instead of being the one doing the holding and comforting. The soft _bing_ of the elevator stopping forced them apart. Charles smiled weakly at Erik as they stepped out into the hall. "Thank you."

Erik shrugged, looking distinctly embarrassed. "Let's go find her room."

He let Erik handle this floor's receptionist, considering the main floor's reaction to him. Erik walked over to him after a moment and said, "This way."

Down a hall, around a corner then a knock on a door followed by Angel's face appearing. "Erik! Charles, good to see you. Come on in."

She opened the door fully and Charles fair flew into the room, his gaze frantically searching until it landed on his sister's face. Who was awake and looking at him. He hurried to her side, taking her hand and kissing it. "Raven, I got here as fast as I could. Are you okay? What happened?"

"Easy, bro." Raven smiled at him and he relaxed. No IV tubes or anything other than a heart monitor on her finger and a bandage across her forehead. "I'm fine. Just bruises and a bump on the head. No big deal, honestly."

"Thank god," he murmured, reaching out to smooth her hair off her face. "When Erik said you were in the hospital, I just…"

Raven's gaze softened. "I'm sorry to have worried you. I'm fine, Charles. You're stuck with me for a long time."

Charles managed a smile then looked over at the three agents. "What happened?" he asked, a bit plaintively.

Jean and Angel exchanged sheepish looks while Erik moved to stand next to him, arms crossed. Charles was grateful to have him near. Jean finally spoke up. "We were leaving her dorm, heading for class. She'd gotten ahead of us by a couple steps and reached a patch of sidewalk that had this sort of shimmer on it. I was just pointing it out to Angel when Raven hit it and went flying. Knocked her head on the ground bad enough to knock her out. Angel and I brought her straight here and I called Erik."

"And making it sound a million times worse in the process," Erik added, his voice tight.

Jean winced and Charles turned back to his sister, relieved. "What was on the sidewalk?"

Raven shrugged. "No clue. And I was in my hiking boots, which have sick tread on them so there was no reason I should have slipped. Whatever it was took my feet right out from under me instantly. Next thing I know, I'm waking up here with some nurse trying to shove something in my arm and failing."

Charles laughed a little. That was Raven, all right. She was going to be fine.

Erik said, "Did the two of you think to get a sample of what was on the sidewalk?"

Angel said, "We couldn't get it off. It felt almost like black ice? But like it was almost sprayed or painted onto that section of the sidewalk. It wasn't anywhere else."

"Anyone else around? Anyone walking down the sidewalk before you?" Erik continued to question them.

"Not that we could see," Jean said.

"See what?" A male voice entered the conversation and they all turned to see Scott and Alex enter the room. Scott slipped an arm around Jean's waist and kissed her cheek. "You okay, babe?" She nodded and Scott turned to Erik. "In police custody. Hopefully they'll be able to get something out of him that'll help us."

"Wait," Raven said, glancing between the brothers and Charles. "Did something happen to you, too, Charles?"

Charles bit his lip. "We were shot at, on our way over here."

Raven sat up. "Oh my god! Charles! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they catch the bastard?"

Erik interrupted, "He's fine. We caught him. Calm down before the nurse comes in here wondering if you're having a heart attack."

Raven shot him a glare, making Charles smile faintly, but settled back against the pillow. "So?"

"What?" Charles asked.

"What do you mean, what? What happened?"

Charles sighed and gave her the abridged version before abruptly realizing something. He turned to Erik and said, "Thank you, for saving my life."

Erik rubbed the back of his neck. "It's my job."

"But still," Charles persisted. "Thank you."

Raven asked, "So this shooter, do you think he's the one behind the threats against us?"

Erik replied, "It's possible. It's also possible he's just a hit man hired for the day."

Something occurred to Charles, then, clicking in his mind. "Oh god," he mumbled, blinking, and swayed. He felt faint. Hands immediately clamped on his shoulders and forced him into a chair. "Oh god."

"Charles. Charles, look at me." Charles forced himself to focus on Erik, now kneeling in front of him, his hands resting on Charles' knees. "What is it?"

"I just realized."

"Realized what?"

"It's all me." He knew his voice sounded faint but didn't care. His mind was reeling. "The threats, the sidewalk, the shooter…I have to do it."

"Do _what_ , Charles?" Erik was sounding a bit frustrated with Charles' half-sentences.

He blinked a few times, focusing on Erik's wonderful grey eyes. "Drop out of the race. I can't put Raven in danger any longer. It's not fair to her."

"Don't you dare, Charles!" Raven said forcefully. He turned to look at her. "You have to stay in the race, prove to these bastards that they're not getting to you."

"She's right, Charles," a quiet voice said from the back. "You can't give up," came another. He didn't bother to identify them, focusing on his sister.

Charles shook his head. She didn't understand. "Raven, I can't. Not if you're going to be collateral damage. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you. Especially because of me."

"Bullshit!" His mouth dropped open at the term. Raven continued, "Yes, you took care of me growing up, but I'm an adult now. I can take care of myself. You don't have to plan your life around me anymore. You can win this; and you will be brilliant as President. I know it. So don't you dare throw in the towel! Not now; and certainly not because of me."

Charles looked at her helplessly. He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to work out what to say but couldn't.

Erik said quietly, "You can't back down from people like this, Charles. Think of your stepfather." Charles' head whipped around to face him. "Whoever's behind this is just like him: using intimidation tactics to get you to do what they want. You can't let them win; you're stronger than that."

Against Raven and Erik both teaming up, Charles took a shaky breath and nodded. "Okay. I'll stay in the race." Raven cheered but Charles added, "Under the condition that nothing else happens to Raven or I will drop out."

Erik nodded. "I promise, Charles; we'll keep her safe."

"Okay, then." Another breath, steadier this time. "Where's the doctor? I want to know when Raven can leave."

Erik's mouth twitched in what might almost have been a smile as he got to his feet. "I'll find one."

Charles smiled gratefully at him. Erik may not have originally wanted to be here, but Charles would be forever grateful to have him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Happy New Year! Finally, the moment I know you've been waiting for: Charles and Erik's first kiss :)**

 **I know it's kind of short compared to the last one, sorry.**

* * *

Erik took hold of Charles' right wrist and twisted it behind his back, angling upwards just enough to cause a slight discomfort. Charles winced and Erik quickly asked, "Too much?"

Charles shook his head. "I'm good. Keep going."

Erik hesitated but said, "Okay. So…you're trapped. Your assailant can yank your arm up and break it at any point. What do you do?"

For a couple minutes, Charles didn't movie, clearly thinking it through. This was one of many scenarios Erik had been coaching him through ever since he'd agreed to training, and he'd upped the frequency after the attempted shooting a week and a half ago. Charles tugged a bit experimentally at his arm, testing Erik's grip. Erik held tight, not giving an inch, and Charles huffed. Erik grinned widely, knowing Charles couldn't see it.

"I know you're giving me your shark grin right now," Charles muttered.

Amused, Erik just retorted, "Break free."

"I'm thinking!"

"Think faster. I could've slit your throat by now."

"You know, contrary to popular belief, more death threats do not actually help the thinking process."

"I'm pretty sure they do." They were just teasing, not really annoyed or frustrated with each other. Most of their conversations went like this and Erik had been startled at how quickly they'd become comfortable together. At how much he enjoyed the back and forth banter.

Charles' foot brushed his—they worked barefoot, for a better grip on the mats—and then Charles was grinning happily at him as they stood face to face, a foot of space between them. Erik felt his mouth drop open. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" Charles' grin widened, mischief sparkling in his bright blue eyes.

Erik narrowed his eyes in response. _If that's the way he wants to play, fine._ Feeling mischief spark in himself, Erik abruptly grabbed Charles' arm, yanked him to the side and pressed Charles' back to the wall. He gripped both of Charles' arms just above the elbows so he couldn't move them upwards to break the hold and moved in close, inches between them. His voice was low. "You've just been ambushed. Pinned with your back to the wall. Can't move your arms, your attacker's too close to use your legs or knee him in the balls. What do you do?"

He could feel his heart racing, but put it down to the sudden movement. Charles tilted his head, his mouth twisted in thought. Erik loved how his brow crinkled when he focused hard on something. It made him want to rub it, to smooth it out. Charles tugged, twisted, shifted, but couldn't break free and Erik could tell it was starting to frustrate him. Then, suddenly, Charles' expression cleared.

Before Erik could wonder what his plan was, Charles had lifted himself onto his tiptoes and pressed his lips to Erik's. Stunned, Erik froze, his grip loosening…

…and Charles took advantage of that fact to hook his fingers through Erik's belt loops and tug him those last few inches until their bodies were touching. Fire raced through him at the touch and his barriers fell. Erik responded to the kiss, leaning in, and slid a hand up Charles' arm to tangle in the slightly sweaty hair at the nape of his neck, felt more than heard Charles moan into the kiss. _Yes._ Erik deepened the kiss, moving his other arm around Charles' waist. Charles pressed his hands against Erik's back.

Then his brain caught up and he jerked away. Charles looked surprised and hurt but _mein gott. Was hat…was gerade passiert ist?_ (translation: my god. What did…what just happened?)

"Erik…?" Charles asked, uncertain.

Erik shook his head, ran his hands through his hair several times and tried to form words. Charles stepped towards him, but he stepped back. " _Nein_ (translation: no). No…this." He took a shaky breath, gestured between them. "This can't happen again. Shouldn't have. _Lieber Gott, was habe ich nur tun…?_ (translation: dear god, what did I just do…?)"

"But…"

"No. You are the client. I am a federal agent. I am here to protect your life and that is all." He tried to make it sound rational but was afraid his voice was just shy of panic. _Was zum Teufel?_ (translation: what the hell?) How did this man break through all of his walls like they were nothing? Erik turned away, unable to face him without wanting to kiss him again. He'd never met anyone like Charles, no one who'd been able to do that to him…"I'm sorry, Charles, but we can't do this. Not again."

The only sound in the room was Alex and Scott as they lifted weights on the other side of the gym. Finally, in a small voice, Charles said, "I thought we…I thought you wanted…"

"You thought wrong." He winced. That sounded too harsh.

"I _like_ you, Erik."

Erik sighed, scrubbed his hands over his face. He liked Charles, too. That was exactly why it had to stop, right now. "The most we can ever be is friends. Once the election ends, we won't see each other again." _Verdammt,_ (translation: Damn it) why was he shaking? His heart was racing twice as fast and all he could think about was touching, kissing, Charles, again. "We're done training for tonight. Alex and Scott can take you back to the apartment." And Erik left, trying not to feel like he was fleeing but knew he was. He pulled his shoes and hoodie on and stepped out into the cool night air. A run was just the thing the doctor ordered, to put his head back on straight.

And yet…as his feet pounded against the sidewalk, the only thing he could see was the mix of want and hurt on Charles Xavier's face.

And the only thing Erik wanted right then was to kiss him again. _Verdammt…_ (translation: damn it)

* * *

The door to Charles' office banged open, startling those within as Raven strode in and announced, "If you are not related to me or Charles, out." After a glance at Erik, seated by one of the bookcases, everyone but Charles, Erik and Raven exited. Raven turned to Erik and said, "That includes you."

"Nope." Erik didn't even bother to look up from the book he was flipping through. Charles thought it was one of his old psychology texts from his undergrad years.

"I want to talk to my brother," she continued.

"Go right ahead. I'm not stopping you."

Charles shouldn't enjoy this but he did, leaning back in his chair to watch the scene unfolding in front of him. Watching Erik and Raven face off was entertaining, to say the least, what with them both having such dominant personalities.

" _Alone_ ," Raven stressed, hands on her hips.

Erik did look up at that, one eyebrow raised. "I am not leaving the two of you in a room together without any protection. In case you'd forgotten, both of you recently had brushes with death. So, by all means, talk to your brother. But I am not leaving."

Raven huffed but turned to Charles. "So?"

He looked at her blankly. "What?"

"So who is he?"

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Ugh. You are so frustrating sometimes, Charles." She came around to sit on the edge of his desk on his right. "The last time you were like this, you had a new boyfriend you didn't want me to meet. And we both know I should vet your boyfriends. So…who is he?"

Erik coughed briefly from his position and Charles tried very hard not to look at him. He couldn't tell her…but he couldn't lie to her either. He was a horrible liar, or so he'd been told. So he settled for hedging. "I do not have a new boyfriend, Raven."

Raven narrowed her eyes at him, swinging her legs back and forth. "Fine. Not a boyfriend, but there is someone." When he refused to answer, she turned to Erik and demanded to know, "Do you know who he likes?"

Erik met her gaze and calmly said, "I don't."

 _Liar_ , Charles thought, looking over at him. _You pushed me away and I have no idea why._

Raven said, "Something is going on. Do you know?"

Erik looked at Charles and god help him, but Charles felt a burst of desire go through him when he met those wonderful grey eyes.

"Oh, I see now," Raven said knowingly and he turned to her with a start.

How long had he been staring at Erik? "See what?" he asked, a little worried.

Raven leaned in and said with a grin, "Details. Now."

"There are no details," he tried.

"You are a horrible liar, Charles."

Yes, he was aware. Charles still insisted, "There are no details, Raven." But as he talked, he subtly grabbed a piece of scrap paper and wrote something on it, then turned the paper so she could see it.

She clapped a hand over her mouth, no doubt to hold back the glee he could clearly see in her eyes. He'd written _Erik and I kissed._ Raven grabbed a pencil and quickly scribbled a response, _What? How? When? Who kissed who?_

With a sigh, and a quick glance to make sure Erik was still reading—Erik was slowly going through all of the books that Charles kept in the bookcases in his office, which was rather endearing, all things considered—Charles wrote back, _During our training session last week. We'd been flirting the whole time, and I just kind of…kissed him._

 _OH MY GOD! How could you not tell me this?_ Her expression was incredulous and a little betrayed that he'd kept this from her.

 _It all just happened so quickly and then, well._ He shrugged.

She yanked the pencil out of his hand and scribbled, _What happened? Do I need to kill him?_

Charles smiled faintly. He wrote _It shouldn't have happened and most likely won't happen again. We haven't talked about it since._

Raven's expression softened. "Oh, Charles," she murmured quietly.

He just shrugged. "Things happen," he replied in a like tone.

She wrote on the paper, _How was it?_

He could feel his face turning red and was grateful that Erik seemed to be ignoring them in favor of his book. _Amazing._

 _But seriously, him? Really? He's an ass._

 _Yes, him. And he's not like that around me._ Charles sighed. _I wish you could see the side of him that I do. He's really rather wonderful, Raven._

Raven grinned and replied, _Sounds like you're in love, Charles. Wonder why he pulled away, though. Is he too scared to commit?_

 _I don't know but I'd sure like to find out, considering the election is in three weeks. Anything could happen then._

"If you're both done passing notes like teenagers," Erik interrupted them quietly, sounding more amused than anything, "I believe both of you have classes to get to."

Charles and Raven both turned a little red at that. "He's right, love. I have to teach soon and you shouldn't even be on this campus."

"I know, but this couldn't wait." Raven hopped off the table, kissed him on the cheek and headed for the door. Pulling it open, she paused and turned around. "Hey, Erik?"

He looked up, one eyebrow raised. "Yes, Raven?"

"Take care of my brother."

Erik glanced at Charles, who was sure that his face was bright red. _Please shut up, Raven. Now._ "Always do," Erik responded finally and Charles' heart skipped a beat.

Raven grinned, winked at Charles, and left. Charles managed to pull his gaze away from Erik's to gather materials together for his next class, their kiss replaying in his head. He would find a way to change Erik's mind. Maybe Raven would have some ideas…

* * *

They were back at the soup kitchen the following week and Erik found that he'd actually missed the atmosphere of the place. What with all of the threats he'd refused to allow Charles to come for a few weeks. This was an exception, a trial run of sorts. He wanted to know if someone was following them and had the Summers' out front while he trailed after Charles.

Charles was in the kitchen today with…oh, what's his name…some scientist…Darwin. Apparently the annoying and loud redhead had been banned from the kitchen and so Charles took his place. Erik wasn't sure that was a good idea or not, considering Charles couldn't cook to save his life. Maybe he just followed Darwin's orders. Finding a spot out of the way was impossible. Every place he chose, he was forced to evacuate as it was utilized.

"Hey, Charles, could you grab some potatoes from the back room?" Darwin asked.

Charles looked up from where he was stirring something and nodded. "Sure, Darwin. How many did you want?"

Darwin shrugged. "Dozen or so?"

Charles turned from his pot and walked past Erik, tossing him a smile and a wink as he slid past, purposely closer than strictly necessary so that their bodies brushed slightly. Erik's heart skipped a beat and his stomach lurched a bit but he refused to let anything show. The past week and a half had been interminable, especially since Raven showed up to demand answers about her brother's romantic life. Awkward did not even begin to cover how he felt then…and how guilty he felt about lying to Charles about having feelings for him.

But he could not get involved. No matter how much he'd like to. Clearly Charles didn't get that because he'd been waging a slow and steady war of seduction on the agent and damn it if it wasn't starting to work.

Hearing a faint _thump_ from the back room, Erik sighed and pushed off from the counter he was leaning against to check on his charge. He was almost to the door, about to call out, when Charles appeared with a bowl of potatoes in his hands. Charles smiled at him and tripped. The bowl dropped with a _clank_ , the potatoes spilled out onto the tiles and Charles all but slammed into Erik's chest face first. Erik's arms instinctively went around him, steadying him.

Charles looked up at him, his eyes sparkling. "Thank you, Erik."

They hadn't been this close since the kiss. Erik still trained him; he just kept a bit of distance between them. Erik cleared his throat and said gruffly, "You okay?"

Charles beamed at him, pressed his hands against Erik's chest, and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Fine. Thank you for catching me." Then he was off and picking up potatoes, leaving Erik to gather his thoughts. _You're gonna be the death of me_ , he thought, not for the first time but this time with fondness in his thoughts.

"Hey, man, what's going on in there?" Alex's voice filtered through the comms, a light teasing tone to it.

"Focus on your job," Erik growled back but there was no bite to it. He was mellowing, he realized, and blamed it on Charles.

Charles took up his place at the soup pot again, but not without flashing Erik a knowing look. Erik shook his head. Thank god this assignment ended in a couple weeks. Although he was starting to wonder if he could give in a bit and still keep Charles safe. Then it occurred to him: did Charles trip on purpose, just so Erik would catch him? Damn, he was good.


	10. Chapter 10

**My final semester in my master's program started today. Good luck to everyone in the new semester, as well.**

* * *

"You ever kill anyone?"

Erik bit back a sigh. The publicity trip to the children's hospital was severely taxing the limits of his patience, limited as it was. Over the comms he heard the others struggling not to laugh. He looked down at the boy staring up at him adoringly. "No," he said flatly.

The boy scrunched up his face. Kid couldn't have been more than seven years old. "I don't believe you."

"Too bad," Erik replied. This time he heard someone laugh and looked up. Charles met his gaze, a hand over his mouth but Erik could see his eyes crinkling with laughter. He was clearly enjoying Erik's discomfort.

"Why would you have a gun if you didn't kill no one?" the boy persisted.

"There are other reasons to have a gun."

"Like what?"

Another boy joined them, maybe five years old. "You can shoot peoples without killing them, David," the second boy said knowingly. "Like in video games."

"Nuh uh."

"Uh huh."

"Nuh uh!"

"Uh huh!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Uh huh!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Okay!" Erik interjected, gently pushing the boys apart. "I have a gun to protect people. I do not kill people unless I have to, and _no_ ," he added quickly when he saw the older boy open his mouth to ask again, "I have not killed anyone."

They both frowned at him, clearly disappointed with his response. The younger one said, "Can I see your gun?"

 _Ach du lieber Gott_ (translation: oh dear god). He lifted his gaze to the ceiling, praying for patience. When the boys started tugging on his jacket hem, Erik looked over at Charles, silently pleading for help.

Charles came over to rescue him, smiling widely. With laughter in his voice, he knelt down and said, "Why don't we go play with your action figures, boys? Erik's a bit busy right now."

"But he's got a gun!" The first boy tried to pull at Erik's jacket again but Charles caught his hand and held it tight.

"Of course he has a gun," Charles replied, laughing a little, and reached for the younger boy's hand as well. "How else is he going to keep me safe?" After a moment, both kids decided that that made sense and walked off with Charles, who shot him a grin as they went.

Erik smiled briefly in return and trailed after him as he deposited the boys at a table and moved to a different group.

* * *

Emma loved when she could get shots of Charles with little kids. Perfect for the campaign, especially with the election less than two weeks away, and he really did have a way with children. One of her favorites so far, though, had been the picture of Agent Erik and Charles with the two boys. And it had been the perfect angle to catch the look on both their faces, even if they hadn't known they were showing anything. She could read it in the smiles; they were in love. Across the room, Charles sat down with a group of girls who welcomed him immediately with a doll and a hairbrush.

 _Snap!_ went her iPad.

Emma grinned. She'd have to make sure to email some of these to Raven; perfect sibling blackmail material. Speaking of blackmail…she looked around for Agent Erik. Gorgeous man. Too bad he was taken by her client. _Sigh_.

Emma made her way around the room until she could sidle up next to Agent Erik. They stood in silence next to each other for a few minutes, the only sound between them the _snap_ of her iPad camera. Eventually, she decided a pointed remark wouldn't go amiss and said, "The kids really do love him, don't they?"

Agent Erik replied a tad fondly, "He loves the kids."

Emma nudged him with her elbow and said calculatingly, "I'm sure they're not the only ones here Charles loves. Or that love him." _Too much?_ she thought but dismissed it almost instantly. Men were about as subtle as a monster truck, in her opinion.

That got her a sharp look which she returned with a knowing smile and walked away. _Let's see if these two idiots will figure out there's more than just lust between them. Before I have to do something more than make pointed comments._

* * *

Still musing over Emma's words, Erik started at the sudden tug on his sleeve. Looking down, he had to bite back a sigh at the sight of yet another little kid staring up at him. Was there some kind of magnet on him? This time it was a little girl, maybe six or seven. Her hair was in several braids, one of which she was sucking on the end of. He knelt down so they were on the same level, wondering if she were lost or something. "Hi," he said gently. He felt a bit awkward but it was easier with girls than boys.

She pulled the braid out of her mouth and smiled shyly. She held up a length of braided purple, blue and yellow string. "For you. Mr. Charles made it." Then she stuck her hair back in her mouth.

Startled, Erik lifted his head to see Charles at the table with a group of girls, very studiously not looking over but Erik could see the faint blush creeping across Charles' cheeks. _"I'm sure they're not the only ones here Charles loves. Or that love him."_ Emma's voice popped into his head again. He remembered the day Raven dropped by Charles' office, their conversations…that kiss. He did like Charles, very much so. But he had to think of the job, too. And there were rules…

A new thought occurred to him. Could he allow himself to be with Charles and still keep his job? He was distracted enough as it was trying to keep things strictly professional. Giving in might eliminate some of that distraction. What if he gave in, even the slightest? Would that work? _Could_ that work?

Erik turned back to the girl and rolled up his left sleeve. He'll wear it; see what happens if he gives in a little bit. "Do you know how to tie a knot?" he asked her.

Her eyes wide, she nodded.

Holding his wrist out, he told her, "Go ahead then." Out of the corner of his eye, Erik saw Charles' head snap up, his eyes wide in surprise. The girl finished tying one very sloppy knot. Erik subtly tied another one so the bracelet wouldn't fall off and thanked her. She smiled around the braid. Glancing at Charles—who was still watching—Erik decided to push a little more. It couldn't hurt, right? Leaning closer, Erik whispered in the girl's ear, "Tell Mr. Charles thank you for me." He kissed her cheek and added, "Give him that, too."

She nodded, giggling, and announced loudly, "I like you." Then she ran back to the table. Erik stood up just in time to see her return to the group. He saw her lips move then lean in and kiss Charles on the cheek with a loud _smack_. Charles looked up, met Erik's gaze for a second, turned bright red and returned to the kids, brushing a doll's hair rather vigorously.

Erik smiled to himself. A muffled sound came through his comm and he said quietly, "Stop laughing and shut up, Alex, or you're sparring with me tomorrow after our morning run."

Alex groaned. "Seriously?"

"Two rounds."

Alex muttered, "Shutting up."

Erik clasped his hands in front of him, playing with the string. It was well made—another talent of Charles' that he was unaware of. He rather liked learning new things about Charles. Charles glanced up at him again, this time giving Erik a soft smile, his eyes shining. Erik returned it, thinking _Maybe giving in wasn't so bad, after all._

* * *

Erik wore that bracelet all the time.

It was driving him crazy.

Every time Charles saw the flash of color peek out from under Erik's shirt sleeve, his brain temporarily stopped. It was the worst during their training sessions because Erik wore short sleeves then and the trio of colors was extremely obvious. And yet, still nothing happened. They didn't talk about whatever this was between them, and Charles was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he was in love with Erik.

And not just normal love. He was head over heels in love with Erik. But he had no clue if Erik felt the same! It was frustrating and confusing as hell. And Raven was no help, preferring to laugh and say he'll figure it out.

Charles looked over the top of his book at where Erik leaned over the kitchen table, working on something with Scott and Alex. The bracelet peeked out as Erik gestured. Charles had never in a million years thought that Erik would _actually_ wear the damn thing. It was a moment of weakness on his part, asking little Eva to take it over to Erik for him. He put a hand on his cheek, feeling the heat of a blush beginning.

Erik wore the bracelet Charles made for him. And what was with that kiss? Eva had kissed his cheek and said it was from Erik and Erik smiled at him like he knew what Charles was thinking. Which was…what was he thinking? That the stars had finally aligned? Clearly not. Erik looked over just then and caught Charles watching; asked, "What time's the meeting again?"

Charles blinked. Meeting? What meet—oh… _That_ meeting. "Thursday, 2 o'clock. I've had to rearrange my schedule to accommodate this and I hope to make it out early enough to meet with Bobby to go over his thesis."

Erik nodded, looking thoughtful, and turned back to the table. Perhaps he was planning security. He was good at that. Erik was good at a lot of things, most recently making Charles' heart skip a beat whenever they were close, or their eyes met for more than a second, or he saw that bracelet…

He was lost. But happily so.

If only he knew about Erik…

* * *

Charles was grading papers in the living room, taking up most of the couch and the coffee table, to Erik's amusement. The man could take up so much space for such a slight person. He leaned over the back of the couch to glance at the grades, oddly curious to know how Charles' students were doing.

Charles tilted his head back so that their faces were only a few inches apart. "Yes?" he asked with a sly smile.

Erik's stomach flipped. To distract them, he pointed at one paper. "You marked that one differently than the one in your hands."

Charles' brow furrowed and he grabbed the paper in question. "Oh, no, he's got most of it right. Daniel's usually pretty good at this sort of thing but Marie on the other hand needs to apply herself more. I think it's a confidence issue, personally. I offer tutoring but my free time has been substantially less than I'd like it to be." He tilted his head back again to meet Erik's gaze. "That's not a complaint, just so you know."

Charles always complained. Erik pretty much expected it whenever he opened his mouth. He simply shrugged and straightened. Charles' hand wrapped around his wrist as he started to walk away and Erik turned back to see him hesitant, biting his lower lip. "What is it?" he asked.

"I…well, I've been meaning to ask but…"

"What, Charles?" _Spit it out…._ Erik may be developing feelings but that didn't mean he couldn't still get exasperated with him.

Charles hesitated another moment. "That…the shooter. From a couple weeks ago?" Erik nodded, remembering. "Well, I was just wondering…did he, well did he say anything?"

"What do you mean?"

Charles ran his free hand through his hair, causing a lock of it to fall across his eyes. Erik felt a sudden urge to brush it away. "Is he a part of all this?" He gestured around the room to indicate him and the boys.

 _Ah…_ He got it now. Erik sat on the back of the couch and gently informed him, "No, Charles. He wasn't."

"But he tried to kill me!"

Erik nodded, striving to sound less gruff than usual. "Yes, but he has no connection to whomever's been sending you threatening letters. And he had nothing to do with what happened to Raven, either."

"Then…" Charles looked confused and a bit scared. "Why would he…?"

Erik shifted their hands so he could squeeze Charles' gently, reassuringly. "There are always fanatics out there. This one may not have liked one of your viewpoints and sought to use the threats to his advantage. Maybe he didn't know who you were and just snapped. All we know for certain is that he was not a part of whatever this is. Which is why we are still here. And will continue to be until we know for sure that you will be safe."

Charles smiled a little and said softly, "Thank you, Erik. For everything." His blue eyes sparkled a bit and Erik felt himself smile in return.

 _Shit_ … _pull away before you say something you can't take back._ Erik squeezed his hand one last time before getting up and heading to the war room.


	11. Chapter 11

_This was pointless,_ Erik decided as they waited for the receptionist to return to the main lobby. _There's no reason to hold a face to face meeting._ That was what Emma was for, wasn't it? And why the hell couldn't she make it to this damn meeting? Wasn't this part of her job?

The elderly woman came back and said with a smile, "He's ready for you now. If you'll just follow me…?"

Charles took a step then stopped and turned around. Erik fought a grin. Charles lifted an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to lecture me about leading?"

Erik bumped Charles' shoulder as he walked by, saying lightly, "I figure you've heard it often enough by now some of it should have sunk in."

Charles chuckled and fell into step behind him. "I think I could recite it by heart by now."

"I don't think I've said it _that_ often," Erik replied.

"Well, I suppose _said_ isn't actually the correct word." Charles was suddenly next to him as they went down the hall, flirting with each other. Their arms brushed each other lightly on every other step. "I believe it was more growling than speaking. And pulling. Lots of pulling."

"I did not growl!"

Alex put in, "You growl all the time, dude. Especially when things don't go your way."

Erik shot him a glare over his shoulder. "I get testy when orders aren't followed."

"And physical," Charles added brightly.

The corners of his mouth twitched despite himself. "Well, you don't listen very well."

Charles shrugged. "Eh, true enough." Charles' fingers glanced across the back of his hand and Erik's stomach lurched.

The receptionist opened a door and stood to the side, out of their way. Voices drifted out to them, male yet unintelligible. Charles fell back a step, allowing Erik through the door first. Alex and Scott stationed themselves just outside the door. Erik took the room in in a glance: bookcases; file cabinets; liquor station; one window, closed; relatively cluttered desk; the mayor in the chair behind the desk; two chairs in front of the desk, one empty, the other occupied by… He froze mid-step.

"Erik?" Charles' voice, hesitant.

It jerked him back to the present and the other visitor turned in the chair to face the newcomers. Schmidt smiled at them. "Hello again, Erik. You look surprised to see me. You haven't been following the race as closely as you should have, have you, my boy?"

His mouth was dry. He couldn't think. He had no clue what was showing on his face but Charles took one look at Erik and stepped forward, drawing the attention to himself.

"Could we get this meeting going?" Charles said as he pulled the empty chair out and sat. "I had to cancel classes plus I have grad students waiting."

Schmidt smirked. "Of course, of course. Mustn't keep the children waiting."

Mayor Kelly finally spoke up. "I'm sorry, but Sebastian…you know this man?"

 _Sebastian?_ Erik thought faintly.

Schmidt smiled at him again. "Erik and I go way back, Robert. But we can catch up later, yes? For now, Mr. Xavier is right. We all have things to be doing."

Mayor Kelly still looked unsure but let it go. Erik honestly had no clue what happened next or what was said. Charles would fill him in later if it was of any importance. Right then his brain was on a loop. _Schmidt ist am Leben? Wie ist das möglich? Er…er starb…auf dieser Zuordnung. Hat er nicht?_ (translation: _Schmidt is alive? How is that possible? He…he died…on that mission. Didn't he?_ )

Charles said something to Schmidt, but he didn't call him Schmidt. Charles called him…Shaw? And the mayor called him Sebastian. _Er hatte seinen Namen geändert._ (translation: He'd changed his name.) Was that why Mason didn't warn him? Or did he know and figured Erik knew, too?

All too soon, the three men at the desk were standing and shaking hands. Charles came over, put a hand on his arm and gently ushered him through the door.

Scott asked, "You okay, Erik?"

Charles answered as they kept walking, "Unexpected surprise, I believe."

 _Schmidt is alive and he's running against Charles_ , Erik thought and with sudden clarity, he knew. He grabbed Charles' hand and walked faster, hearing Alex and Scott hurry to catch up. "Stairs," he snapped.

Scott replied immediately, "Around the corner, on the left. You sure you're okay?"

"Fine. You two take the elevator; make Schmidt—Shaw—think we're in there, too. Charles and I will meet you in the lobby." Give them credit; both brothers stopped in front of the elevator without a word as he led Charles around the corner. There was no way in hell he wanted to be anywhere near Schmidt right then. And he sure as hell wanted him away from Charles.

He shoved the door open with his shoulder and pounded down the stairs, still dragging Charles behind him. It occurred to him—in the very vestiges of his mind—that he was doing exactly what Charles had been talking about earlier. God, why was he even thinking about that right now?

Charles finally spoke. "Erik?"

He didn't answer.

Charles tried again. "Erik, how do you know Shaw?"

He didn't want to answer. Didn't want to go into it, to delve into his past. Somehow it came out anyway. "He's not Shaw; not to me. I knew him as Klaus Schmidt. My former partner." _The one who brought me to America_.

Charles stopped on a landing, the force of it jolting Erik's shoulder. Erik turned around to see Charles staring at him in stunned disbelief. "What?" Charles said. "How is that even possible?"

Erik let go of Charles, running both of his hands through his hair. "I don't even know. I thought he was dead! _Er sollte tot waren_ (Translation: He should've been dead)."

"Erik. Erik, breathe." Charles tugged gently on his arms, lowering his hands and holding them. "Now, what do you mean, he was dead? Because clearly he's not."

Erik met Charles' worried gaze. "It all makes sense, now. Finally."

"What does? Erik, talk to me."

He shook his head, trying to deny it but knowing deep down that it was true. That last mission…Schmidt had run, faked his death, and deceived them all. Why? Didn't he realize they'd recognize him? Well, actually, no. They hadn't. But what did he hope to gain from this? "Charles, I…I think…I think he's—Shaw's—the one behind it. Behind all the threats and the attempts on your life and Raven's. It has to be. He's got the knowledge, the resources…hell, the arrogance. He's always liked power, liked being the one in charge."

Charles shook his head slightly. "But why me? What have I ever done to him?"

"You're running against him," Erik replied simply.

After a moment, Charles asked, "How did you not know that Shaw was my opponent? He's been in the public eye as much as I have. More, even, I would think. I hate publicity."

Erik shook his head. "I never really cared about the race before. Always figured if I didn't like the winner, I could always return to the country of my birth: Germany. Or always take the assignments that sent me overseas for long periods of time." Charles looked a little sad at that but he said, "Just…trust me on this, okay?"

Charles studied him from the step above him. His gaze softened after a moment and he nodded. "Always, Erik." The soft emotion behind those two words caused Erik's throat to tighten momentarily but then Charles slid his hand into Erik's and said, "I believe we should beat Shaw to the parking lot, then, yes?"

"Yes."

* * *

Charles and Erik stood off to the side behind the stage, listening to the noise of the crowd as it grew. Charles was a bundle of nerves and Erik was doing his best to ease them.

"I can't do this," Charles said for the fifth time, bouncing lightly in place.

And for the fifth time, Erik replied calmly, "Yes, you can." Then he added, "You're leading in the polls, you know what the people want, and you actually mean it."

Charles gave him a faint smile and asked, "You'll be up there with me, right?"

After everything that had happened over the last couple months, Erik could understand Charles' fear. Erik wanted to be right there with him, too. And not just for protection; for support, too. He nodded. "I will be right behind you," he promised. A burst of laughter caused them to turn and Erik couldn't help but smile. The girls—Raven, Angel, Jean and Emma—were laughing at something the brothers had said. They'd easily developed a friendship amongst the group, although Emma was a recent addition. They'd all be sad when the assignment ended. Maybe one or two of them would get assigned to Charles' security detail permanently once he'd won. Erik refused to think he wouldn't; the alternative was unthinkable.

"Okay," someone called and they all turned to see an older man in a gray suit walk backstage. "If I could have my candidates over here please…?"

Charles and Erik joined Shaw and one of his bodyguards…a Russian, from what Erik had overheard. Azazel, Erik thought his name was. The older man looked at each of the candidates and smiled widely. Erik didn't trust him. Then again, he didn't trust anyone at the moment. Too much could happen now, here. Too public, too many access points, too many people to keep track of. It was a security nightmare. The only consolation he had was that he'd be up on stage with Charles, just in case.

"Welcome to your final debate, gentlemen. My name is William Stryker and I'm going to be your moderator this evening. I just wanted to quickly go over a few rules before I go out there and get the ball rolling. Sebastian, you'll enter from stage right; Charles, stage left. There is a podium and microphone for each of you with one in the middle for me." Erik noticed with approval then that Scott, Alex, and Jean had slipped away to patrol the audience, leaving Angel with Raven and Emma along the wall.

"Now," Stryker continued, "I'll start the questioning with a few of my own. We'll decide who answers first, on stage, with a coin toss. You each get one chance to answer the question with no interruptions for two minutes and no rebuttals unless I specifically ask for one. Agreed?" Stryker waited until both Charles and Shaw had nodded before continuing. "We'll alternate who answers first and then when I've exhausted my supply of questions—and we still have time—we'll open it up to questions from the audience. Same rules apply: one answer, time limit, alternate who goes first and such. If, by chance, an audience member asks a specific candidate the question, that candidate will answer first and then the other will be given a chance to respond. Only fair, men." Stryker glanced at his watch and smiled again. "Two minutes, gentlemen."

The two pairs drew off to the side, just out of earshot of the other, and Erik made sure that he was facing Shaw and Azazel. Charles was breathing quickly. Erik put a hand on his shoulder and said softly, "You've got this. Trust me. And I'll be right there."

Charles nodded, looking a little sick. Stryker turned around from where he stood just off stage. "Oh, candidates," he called. "So sorry. I forgot one last thing: your bodyguards cannot go up on stage with you. Might freak out the audience."

"Excuse me?" Erik said, surprised. Since when was that a rule? Charles went pale, all color draining from his face, and Erik resisted the urge to pull him close. They were in public, after all. _Damn feelings._ He did indulge in some rather creative mental swearing, however.

Stryker shrugged. "Don't blame me; I just say what I'm supposed to." Another glance at his watch. "One minute. Better get into position."

Erik looked across at Shaw and caught Azazel's eye. He looked pissed at the new rule, too. Their gazes caught and locked in agreement that the situation was not ideal. _Hmm_ , he thought. Maybe he and Azazel could get along. He didn't seem all that thrilled to be that close to Shaw, either.

Music started playing and Azazel followed Shaw across the area behind the stage, but not before tilting his head towards Shaw and rolling his eyes in Erik's direction. Erik nodded. Oh, yeah; they'd get along fine. He put a hand on Charles' elbow, ushering him over to his side of the stage.

Stryker was up there talking now, building up the hype. Erik turned Charles around so they were face to face, figuring if Charles couldn't see, he couldn't panic as much. "Focus on me," he murmured.

Charles' eyes locked onto his and his breathing slowly evened out as Stryker talked.

"You can do this," Erik reassured him. "It's no different than your classes. They ask questions, you give them the right answers; that's all this is." Charles nodded jerkily and his hand snaked out to grab Erik's. Erik squeezed it, which seemed to help. He absently reached up to brush Charles' hair out of his eyes, which earned him a shaky smile.

Sebastian was announced and he walked on stage waving and wearing the fakest smile Erik had ever seen.

"I can do this," Charles whispered, taking a deep breath.

Erik looked down at him, his eyes determined and so blue…Erik couldn't imagine Charles not winning. He was everything this country needed. _What the hell…_ he thought. Erik threw caution and scruples to the wind for just a split second, giving into temptation briefly and kissed Charles on the lips just as Stryker announced his name to the crowd's applause.

Charles looked a little stunned but soon—just as Erik had known would happen—a huge grin spread across his face and he walked out onto the stage every inch the wonderful, confident person Erik had grown to know and respect. As for himself, Erik moved to a position where he could see Shaw and Charles, as well as a good portion of the theater and the audience. He murmured into his comm, "Here we go, kids. Everybody on alert. There's no telling what can or will happen." Five different voices came back with a variation on _copy_.

Shaw won the coin toss, to which Erik made a disgusted face, and the debate began.

* * *

An unknowable amount of time later—Erik's feet were starting to hurt from standing in one place for so long—something caught his eye. Charles was nodding in response to something Shaw had said— _please tell me you don't agree with him, Charles_ —when that something caught his eye again, identifying it this time as movement in the back left of the theater. Frowning, Erik said quietly into his comm, "Anyone got eyes on the back left?"

"My left or your left?" came the reply.

He refrained from growling. Much. " _My_ left. Something moved. Find out what."

"On it. Cranky pants." Alex. Of course it was.

There. "Alex, report."

Alex came back with a frustrated, "Nothing's here, Erik. No empty seats, no one fidgeting—which is weird in and of itself. Debates bore me. You sure you saw something?"

" _Yes,_ I'm sure I saw—" There it was again, moving right, but closer. "Who's on the right?" He rolled his eyes and added quickly, "My right."

"It's me, Jean."

Erik shifted, trying to get a better view. Charles was talking now, gesturing like he always did when he was passionate about something. He narrowed his eyes, trying to track it. "Someone's moving…about midway up your section, Jean."

Scott entered the conversation. "I'm headed over, Jean. See anything?"

"Maybe…" she said uncertainly.

Angel tapped Erik on the arm. "Want me to check?"

"No, stay with Raven."

"Erik, white male, gray jacket?" Jean asked.

Erik confirmed, "That's him."

"Yeah, something's off. He's walking hunched over." She paused and now he could see her red hair bobbing as she tried to get closer to the man. "I…I think he's got a hand in his jacket? Scott, Alex, do either of you have a better angle?"

Before the brothers could reply, the man in question launched himself into the aisle along the wall opposite his agents, a few feet from the stage and pulled a gun from inside his jacket.

Aimed right at Charles!

Erik bolted from his position, rushing onto the stage. Charles was half-turning to see what had drawn the audience's attention when Erik hit him, knocking into him just as the report of a gunshot sounded. They hit the floor of the stage a moment later.

His voice strained and slightly panicky, Charles asked, "Am I bleeding?"

Erik groaned, " _No_. That would be me." _Damn, that hurt like hell,_ he thought with a wince. He'd taken the shot meant for Charles, as he'd intended. Above him, he could see Charles' face blanch and he screamed for help. Charles yanked his sweater over his head and shoved it against Erik's stomach, using it to try to slow the bleeding. He must have gotten hit right at the bottom of the vest. The edges of the room were starting to shrink and blacken. Charles' face blurred, his blue eyes bright. _Gut shot…not good._

He heard someone tell him to hang on, that an ambulance was on its way, thought it might have been Angel. Erik's eyes slipped shut.

"Erik. Erik, open your eyes," someone pleaded with him but it was too much effort.

Numbness was starting to creep in, his mind blanking. He just wanted to sleep, to avoid the pain. The person said something again… _Charles…?_

As Erik fell into the darkness, his last conscious thought was of success. _I did it, Charles is safe._

 _"ERIK!_ "

* * *

 **Hell of a cliffhanger, isn't it? Insert evil author chuckle here :D**


	12. Chapter 12

_Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

Charles shifted in the uncomfortable chair, flipping the page of the magazine he was idly reading. Nothing was really reaching him, just a blur of words and colors.

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

He really hated that beeping machine, that heart rate monitor. Three hours and he was getting really sick of it. And yet, he never wanted the beeping to stop. Because if it stopped…Charles took a shaky breath and glanced to his left. Reached out to take hold of Erik's limp hand and squeezed. "Please wake up," he whispered.

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

A hand rested gently on his shoulder and he looked up into his sister's concerned gaze. She wordlessly held out a cup. He took it with his free hand, sipped at the bad hospital coffee, made a face, and returned to watching Erik breathe with the aid of a mask. At least they hadn't needed to intubate him. Raven said quietly, "Emma says there's a bunch of reporters gathering outside."

He immediately shook his head. "No. I'm not talking to them now."

She nodded and bent down to kiss his cheek before joining the others on the other side of the room. They were all worried. Charles bit his lip, setting the cup down. He couldn't lose Erik now, not after everything.

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

Erik's fingers curled around his. Charles straightened in surprise. "Erik?" he asked, hope lending a light to his voice that had been absent in his response to his sister. Behind him, he heard his friends stirring.

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

Charles leaned forward, scanning for any sort of movement. Erik's breathing deepened then his head moved slightly. Charles wrapped both his hands around Erik's. "Erik, it's Charles. Can you hear me?"

Erik's eyes fluttered open, blinking a couple times before settling on Charles. Charles smiled in relief. Erik mumbled through the mask, _"Wo bin ich?_ "

Charles' smile faded. Was something wrong? "What is it, Erik?"

Understanding flashed and Erik squeezed his hand weakly before trying again. "Charles…where am I?"

Charles reassured him, "You're in the hospital, Erik. You're going to be okay."

"You?" His grip tightened.

Charles let the smile free. "I'm perfectly fine, thanks to you."

Erik nodded, once, his eyes sliding shut. Charles panicked. "Erik?"

" 'm 'kay," he mumbled. His voice was a little muffled from the mask. "Tired."

"Are you in any pain? Should I get the nurse?"

Erik shook his head, opening his eyes again and looking over Charles' shoulder. Frowning, Charles twisted and saw everyone grouped behind him. With a smile, he waved them forward. As much as he wanted alone time with Erik, they were all his friends, too.

Of course, though, that was when the nurse walked in. "Oh, you're awake!" she said cheerfully. "Doctor Dobson will be thrilled to hear that." The middle-aged woman came over and gently lifted the oxygen mask off Erik's face. "Do you feel okay breathing on your own or do you want the mask?"

Erik took an experimental breath, slow and steady, and shook his head. "I'm good," Erik told her and Charles felt a little more tension ease out of his shoulders.

 _Erik was all right_ , he thought, lacing his fingers through Erik's and squeezing. Erik looked over at him, a question in his eyes…and something else, something Charles couldn't identify but concerned him.

The nurse left the room, to get the doctor, he assumed, and Erik asked, "Did we get him?"

They all knew what he meant and Scott answered quietly, "Yeah, Erik; we got him. On his way to Mason as we speak. Hopefully he'll give up his employer with little fuss."

Erik nodded. "Good. You're…okay? All?" His eyes flicked over everyone, checking. His gaze landed on Charles and stayed there. Charles offered a smile and Erik brushed his thumb across the back of Charles' hand reassuringly.

"Yeah," Scott confirmed. "Everyone's okay. Just waiting on you, for once." There were a few chuckles at that and even Erik cracked a smile.

Dr. Dobson bustled in then, clipboard in hand, and shooed them all to the side, out of her way. Charles, however, refused to move and she allowed him to remain where he was after a moment of silent discussion.

Dr. Dobson was just leaving—with instructions for Erik to rest and them to not agitate him—when Emma stepped inside. "Charles," Emma said and he turned to face her reluctantly. "You have to face them sooner or later, Charles. You're lucky they haven't forced their way inside yet."

"Face who?" Erik asked.

Charles sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. "Reporters. They followed the ambulance and have been camped outside since I arrived." He scrunched his face up in discomfort. "I know what they want to talk to me about and I'd really rather not discuss you almost dying for everyone in the country. Emma, can't you make a press statement or something for me?"

Emma shook her head. "It'll sound better coming from you. You're a politician, Charles; you're going to have to make speeches about things you really don't want to."

Erik pulled his hand free and Charles must have made some sort of sound or face because Erik was holding it again. "I'll be okay for the five minutes you're out there. Go on; get it over with."

"Fine," Charles sighed and reluctantly pulled away.

Erik ordered, "Scott, Jean, Angel…go with him. Keep him safe." His voice was still weak but Charles could hear the silent plea and worry. Erik still worried about him even though he was the one who'd nearly died a few hours ago. Charles knew he would have sent Alex, too, but Raven had to stay inside with someone.

They nodded and headed into the hall. Charles started after them but stopped after a couple steps. Making up his mind, he whirled around and returned to the hospital bed. Charles leaned over and kissed Erik quickly, leaving the room without waiting to see his reaction. He hoped they were together now—especially after Erik kissed him at the debate—but that look in Erik's eyes earlier concerned him and he wanted to let Erik know that this changed nothing for him.

* * *

Alex turned to Erik once it was the three of them and raised an eyebrow. "When did that happen?"

Erik glared at him. "Nothing happened."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Alex retorted. "Charles just kissed you. And you let him. That is the very definition of something happening. I'm just trying to figure out when you figured out you were capable of feelings."

Erik didn't answer, unsure of what to say because there was—is—something real happening between him and Charles and he was still figuring out how to handle it. What he could and couldn't do. That kiss at the debate…that should not have happened. _Too emotionally attached to the subject._ That was what they'd say when they yanked him off the detail.

But he'd wanted it.

Enjoyed it.

He was well and truly fucked.

Raven spoke up then, informing Alex, "It's not their first kiss, either."

Erik shot her a glare as Alex squawked. He reached for the remote as they gossiped about his relationship with Charles.

Was it a relationship?

He winced as he reached further than he should have, the movement tugging at his injury. He felt a lot worse than he let on, if he were being honest with himself.

And that's another thing: when did he start caring so much about Charles' feelings? Why should he care that Charles knew he would be okay even when he himself wasn't so sure?

…and why did he kiss Charles…?

"Erik, are you even listening to me?"

Erik snapped, "What?" as he was jolted out of his thoughts.

Alex held up his hands in mock surrender. "Jeez, I just asked if you wanted something for the pain."

"Oh." Erik thought about it for a moment before acquiescing, if only so he wouldn't be wincing or have to pull away from his touch when Charles came back. _Verdammt_ , now he was making _decisions_ based on Charles! What happened to his life? When did he start caring so much about the happiness of another person before his own?

Maybe getting shot had been a blessing in disguise. It gave him a chance to spend some time alone, away from the professor and the others; maybe gain some perspective on his life and his options.

* * *

"Charles, Carl Davids, NBC 3 News. Do you know who shot at you? Is this part of the death threats you've been receiving?"

"Betsy Shahir, Fox News. Mr. Xavier, do you think the nation will side with you after the shooting?"

"Mr. Xavier, Keith Woods. _Daily News_. Are you going to reschedule the debate?"

"Charles, Annie Pierce, _The Temple News_. Does the shooting of your bodyguard mean that you'll be dropping out of the race?"

Erik scowled at the television screen in his hospital room as poor Charles was bombarded with these and similar questions the instant he stepped outside. Raven took the chair next to his bed, Alex leaning against the wall nearby, arms crossed.

"That's uncalled for," Raven muttered in response to that last question.

"It's like wolves," Alex observed quietly.

Erik silently agreed with them both, trying not to talk all that much. He'd lied a bit when the nurse asked if he needed the mask but he couldn't stand the look on Charles' face. Gut shots were painful as hell and took forever to heal, but Charles didn't need to know that; not at the moment.

On the screen, Scott, Jean and Angel shoved reporters and camera people back to give Charles some space, and he could see Charles nodding as Emma talked in his ear. He stepped forward, his face set in a carefully neutral expression.

He held up a hand and the voices died down, microphones and tape recorders held out for him to speak into.

"A few hours ago, there was an incident at the presidential debate," Charles began.

Erik nodded. Good; his voice was steady.

"I am uninjured. My bodyguard took the bullet meant for me but he is going to be fine." Charles took a breath. _Keep it together,_ Erik thought. Charles continued, "As of this moment, I do not know who the shooter is, nor do I know if he was working for someone. The FBI has him in custody right now and I have every faith in their ability to get answers. Any further investigations I leave up to the police and the FBI.

"No, we are not rescheduling the debate as far as I know right now. If it comes up, my opponent and I will discuss it. I will not be dropping out of the race and I would not presume to judge the nation's opinions at the moment. Thank you. No questions, please." Charles turned and headed back inside, but Erik did notice that he'd answered some of the questions that had been shouted at him before he made his statement.

The reporters surged after him as Charles and Emma started back towards the doors, the agents trying to force the reporters to keep a respectful distance.

Erik had reached for the remote to shut the TV off when Alex threw out a hand. "Wait, what's that? Bottom left corner of the screen." Erik peered at it. Stupid television was dangling from the ceiling in the corner but—"Is that a car?" It looked like the hood of a car, but it was the emergency room entrance. And it was someone's personal camera, shaky.

Raven said quietly, questioningly, "Is it driving through the crowd?"

Alex lunged for a radio. "Scott! Scott, answer."

Erik turned the volume up on the television, trying to hear anything. Scott's voice crackled through the radio. "What, Alex? Tell Erik we're on our way back."

"No, Scotty, the car! The car in the crowd!"

The reporters had noticed and were starting to fall back. On the screen they could see the small group start to turn around, the camera holder realizing what was happening and turning to film it instead of calling an alarm. An open space was developing around the car. Erik sat up abruptly, breathing in sharply as his body protested the movement. _Charles_ …

"Scotty, move!" Alex shouted into the radio at the same instant the car shot forward, scattering reporters.

In the corner of the screen, Erik saw Charles' head whip around. A shock of red hair blocked him from view. Someone screamed. Raven gasped, her hands over her mouth. Erik felt his mouth drop open as they lost the feed to static.

He flipped through channels, trying to find something, anything, that would tell him what was going on.

Charles' voice filled the room, echoing through the radio. "I'm okay. I'm inside, headed back up." Somehow, Scott knew they needed— _he_ needed—to hear Charles' voice, to know he was okay.

Erik let his breath out in a rush of relief, a tension dropping out of his shoulders he hadn't known was there. He dropped his head back onto the pillow, a hand ghosting across his stomach bandages. "Oh thank god," he breathed. He stuck out his other hand and Alex dropped the radio into it. "Charles, you're sure?"

A little huff of a laugh came through. "Worrywart as ever, love. Yes, Erik, I'm sure and I'll see you in a minute."

The room fell silent for a moment after that—Erik hoping no one caught Charles' term of endearment, or at least wouldn't bring it up—until Raven said proudly, "He's okay. And he did good out there."

"Well," Erik corrected tiredly.

"What?"

"He did well." Crap, now he was correcting people's speech like Charles did.

"I'm glad you think so, because it was not fun," Charles said, entering the room. Raven immediately jumped up and hugged him. Their eyes met over her shoulder and Erik realized he should maybe make a decision. "I'm fine," Charles said reassuringly, his face only a little paler than before.

Erik still said, "I should've been there," trying not to sound petulant.

"You're injured," Jean said sympathetically. "And he is fine. We even got the plate for Mason to run."

Alex muttered, "It'll probably come back stolen, knowing our luck."

Angel smacked his arm. "Shut up and try to be positive for once."

Kids. He worked with kids, Erik thought, faintly amused.

Charles came over and sat on the edge of Erik's bed, playing with the fingers of Erik's right hand as he said, "I think we should order in tonight and watch a movie or something. Ray, what do you think?"

She lifted an eyebrow. "I don't think that's really up to me. It's up to your security, I think. Plus there's this thing called visiting hours."

"I'm a Presidential candidate. I'm exempt."

Erik said, "I think the boys are a bad influence on you, Charles."

"You mean me, don't you?" Alex said with a grin, making the group laugh.

Erik winced at the tug against the wound. He had to stop pulling at it. Charles caught the wince, his smile fading. "You all right, Erik?"

He nodded. "I've been shot before, Charles. I'll be up in no time." Charles had to think he would be fine, and soon. Charles had to keep his head in the game, not worry about him. He'd have to talk to Mason, get him to send someone to replace Erik as head of the detail while he recuperated. Maybe a bit of distance would do them some good, anyway.

Erik needed time to think, figure things out. Figure out what the best thing to do was: for him and for Charles, whether that turned out to be giving in to whatever was between them or remaining apart and keeping it professional.

* * *

"Go fish."

"Oh come on, you say that to me every time!" Alex frowned as he reached for the deck of cards on the bed.

Scott just chuckled and replied, "Maybe you should try asking someone else."

"I cannot believe I let you talk me into playing Go Fish, Charles," Erik said with a sigh. Instead of replying, Charles just tucked himself closer to Erik, a comforting warmth against his right side. Somehow Charles had also managed to maneuver things so that they were both lying on the bed, Erik's right arm around him. Things were moving too fast for him to get a handle on them. But there were times he wasn't all that sure he wanted to get a handle on them.

The room's phone rang and Jean answered it, talking quietly into it as Charles asked Alex for fives. He was handing them over when Jean announced, "He's here."

Erik glanced over at her as Charles queried, "Who's here?"

Erik nodded and tilted his head towards the door. "Let him in."

Jean stepped out into the hall. Charles turned to him. "Who's here, Erik?"

 _He had to find out sooner or later._ "My replacement."

Charles straightened, looking at him with something akin to horror. That didn't make sense. "Your _replacement?_ "

Scott and Alex slowly set their hands down and stepped away. _Cowards_ , Erik thought, but there was no bite to the thought. Shifting a bit to get comfortable now that his right side was abruptly cold, he said, "I can't very well protect you from a hospital bed, Charles."

"So Alex and Scott can do it until you're better."

"It's not going to be a couple days, Charles. I won't be back on duty for a few weeks, at least."

Worry flashed across his face. "But you're okay."

Erik pressed his lips together. "Gut wounds take a while to heal fully. And then there's physical therapy. Just because it wasn't a really bad injury doesn't mean I'm not still going to need time to recover from it. And that means that you're one short on security and I am not leaving anything to chance with a week left. So, yes. When I gave Mason the plate to run, I asked him to send a replacement along, as well."

Charles frowned and somehow Erik just knew he was going to fight it. "What if I don't want a replacement?"

Erik sighed. Sometimes he hated being right. "I'm afraid that's not up to you." When did all of this become a negotiation?

"I don't like it." Charles crossed his arms.

"You don't have to like it. You just have to listen to him." When Charles' mouth set in a mulish line, Erik propped himself up onto his elbows so that he could look Charles in the eye, ignoring the burst of pain. "You _will_ listen to him, Charles. He is here to keep you safe, just like me. Just like Scott and Alex."

The door opened and Jean walked in, followed by a tall, muscular man with a wild mane of hair and beard. He was also in jeans and a flannel shirt, a holstered gun on his belt.

Erik scowled. "Logan."

The man tapped two fingers against his forehead in a faux salute. "Hey, Lensherr."

"So you're my replacement."

"Seems like it." Logan's gaze flicked between Erik—still propped up on his elbows—to Charles, who was sitting on the bed next to him. "You gonn' do introductions?"

Erik fell back against the pillow, feeling a bit drained from that small movement. "Logan, Charles Xavier; your assignment. Charles, Logan Howlett; the Secret Service's very own lumberjack." Try as he might, he couldn't quite keep the disdain out of his voice.

Charles held out a hand, clearly reluctant. "Nice to meet you, Logan," he said, his voice polite.

Logan shook it vigorously. "You, too, bub." He glanced around the room. "Summers, times two, I see."

Erik asked, "You up to speed on what's been happening?"

Logan nodded, scratched his beard and said, "Mason briefed me. Let's go, then." He started towards the door.

Charles said, startled, "Excuse me?"

Logan turned around. "It's a weekday, yeah?" When Charles nodded, Logan continued, "Then I believe you're supposed to be workin', yeah? Let's go." Logan pulled the door open and Jean shot a look at Erik before stepping into the hall. Alex and Scott hesitated a moment longer before slowly following suit. "You, too, bub," Logan said, gesturing impatiently for Charles to come.

Charles bit his lip. "Can I have a moment alone with Erik before we leave?"

Logan lifted an eyebrow but stepped outside, shutting the door behind him without a word.

"Charles—" Erik began, fully prepared to argue further, but Charles cut him off with a bruising kiss.

He had no idea how long it lasted, Charles' lips pressed to his, Charles' fingers fisted tightly in the useless hospital gown, Erik's fingers wrapped in Charles' soft hair…eventually, though, Charles pulled back. They were both a little out of breath and flushed.

Charles said quietly, "I just…I wanted to make sure that you knew that I felt the same way."

Erik didn't know what to say. Knowing Charles had just as strong feelings for him that he did for Charles did not help his decision-making in the slightest. He reached up despite himself and gently brushed a lock of hair out of Charles' eyes, letting his fingers skim across the skin of his cheek as he did. Charles leaned into the gesture, his expression softening, eyes fluttering shut.

The door opened and Erik yanked his hand back, Charles' eyes flying open as well. Logan poked his head around the door. "Time's up."

Erik nodded, his eyes locked on Charles'. The door closed as Erik found his voice. "He'll take care of you, Charles."

"Not like you do, though." His voice was still quiet.

Damn it, Erik didn't want him to go. "His style is…different than mine, yes."

"You don't like him. Did something happen between you?" Charles continued to surprise him with his grasp of people.

"We just have very different views on how things should be done. That's all." _That reminds me; I should talk to Logan before he heads out._ "You'll be fine. Trust me."

"Always do." Charles leaned down, brushing their mouths together briefly. Then he slid off the bed and over to the door, turning back with his hand on the doorknob.

Erik felt like he should say something, something about their relationship or whatever it was. But all that came out was "Send Logan in for a second, would you?"

Charles looked disappointed but it was gone in a flash as he nodded, opening the door. Logan replaced him, stepping inside and crossing his arms. "What."

"There are some things you should know about Charles," Erik started.

"Like?" Logan asked archly.

Erik narrowed his eyes. This would go better if he wasn't laid up in a hospital bed. But then Logan wouldn't have needed to be here if Erik weren't in a hospital bed. _Verdammt._ "Like the fact that he's not your typical teacher or candidate. He's a gentle soul, doesn't take to violence well." Which is a direct result of his abusive childhood, but Logan didn't need to know that.

Logan took a step forward. "Look here, bub, I get that you been doin' this for a while now. You think ya know best, right? But the thing is, I'm in charge now. So unless you got _actual_ advice for me, I'm gonn' cut you off here."

Erik gritted his teeth. _Actual_ advice?! That was _actual_ advice! In a flat voice, he said, "His parking lot has a blind spot. And anyone can get into the classrooms. His office is locked and he goes to a soup kitchen on Wednesdays." There was a lot more he wanted to say but it had to do with Charles' person, surprisingly. He toyed with the bracelet on his wrist, spinning the frayed edges between the pads of his fingers.

Logan nodded. "Alright. Get well soon, Lensherr."

The door slammed shut and Erik said softly, "Take care of Charles for me."


	13. Chapter 13

**I know this is super late but I've been working on the last few chapters and the characters are fighting me a bit. Anyway, hope you like it.**

* * *

The text alert on his phone went off and Erik glanced down at it as he waited for the taxi to come to a stop. _Good,_ he thought, shooting off a quick acknowledgement. He had things to do and he really didn't want to run into anyone as he did. The taxi pulled up and he pushed off from the wall he was leaning against, wincing slightly, and climbed in.

"Where to?" the driver asked, Brooklyn accent thick.

Erik gave him the address to Charles' apartment building and leaned back, closing his eyes. Scott said they were on campus so the place was empty. He wondered how Charles was adjusting. Reporters were all over, trying to get pictures of him entering or leaving the hospital, speculating on the shooter, on Charles' relationship to his bodyguard…

Charles had stopped by every day since Logan arrived, staying for a couple hours before leaving. Erik could tell that Charles hated having Logan around but just kept telling himself that it was because they had such different work styles. He couldn't afford to think of it in any other way.

He still had a key to Charles' apartment so he let himself in after asking the driver to wait ten minutes. Pushing open the door and stepping into the living room felt strange. Seeing the place so empty and yet so full of Charles…

He shook his head. _Focus,_ he thought. Grab your stuff and go. He had a plane to catch.

* * *

Charles hated Logan. Hated how the agent treated him like he was a child, incapable of doing anything on his own. Hated how he treated Scott and Alex, how he acted like Erik had been incompetent while guarding him.

Charles missed Erik, so much it hurt. Visiting him at the hospital after class wasn't enough. Especially since Erik wouldn't let him do anything with Logan in the room. And Logan wouldn't leave the room.

Logan rapped the desk with his knuckles, interrupting Charles and he looked up with a frown. Logan gestured for him to get up from his desk. "Time to go, bub," he said gruffly.

Charles glanced at the clock. _Quarter to four already?_ he thought with dismay. He couldn't go visit Erik today; he had a meeting with the dissertation committee he was on, then a meeting with Emma, then Logan would drag him back to his apartment. The man had instituted a curfew, for goodness sake.

Slowly, reluctantly, Charles started to pack up. Logan moved to the door, arms crossed as he waited. Scott shot him a glare then came over to help Charles put away the books he'd been using.

"You okay?" Scott asked in an undertone as he hefted a book back onto the shelf.

Charles shrugged. "Fine," he replied.

Scott studied him for a moment. "I know Logan's not Erik but he'll be gone before you know it. The election's Tuesday."

Charles dropped a reference book on the floor with the others. "I just wish he would back off a bit, you know?"

Scott nodded. "I know." He bumped Charles' shoulder lightly with his and added, "Come on, you'll feel better once you're with the committee."

Charles forced a smile onto his face and threw his coat on. He knew Scott was just trying to help. He and Alex were worried about him, he knew, but he just couldn't pretend everything was normal when it so clearly wasn't. And wouldn't be until Logan was gone and Erik was here. Erik made everything better.

* * *

Erik surveyed the war room one last time, making sure he'd packed all of his belongings. With a sigh, he grabbed his bags and walked back to the living room, dropping a folded piece of paper onto the table. Hopefully, Scott would be able to nab it before Howlett did. He scowled as he stepped out into the hall. From the updates Scott sent him, Erik knew that Charles was having an abysmal time with the other agent. But Erik also knew that this thing between them had gone too far. He shot Scott a text letting him know about the note for Charles, to make sure Logan didn't get it first.

The taxi was still out front and the driver hopped out to help Erik get his bags in the trunk. "Airport," he grunted, collapsing back against the leather seat as the taxi drove, wishing he had thought to grab a water bottle before he'd left the apartment. He did not relish the thought of taking pain meds dry. The skin around the bandage was starting to itch and he tried not to rub it because that would just make it hurt more.

Erik closed his eyes, wishing he could have told Charles goodbye in person but knowing that he couldn't. Lying in that hospital bed the last three days, he'd had some time to think. And the sum of all that thinking was the simple fact that Erik was in love with Charles.

He snorted. Simple? Loving Charles was anything but simple. Oh, his feelings were straightforward enough. It was the effect on his life that was complicated. Erik sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face.

"Problems, mate?" the cabbie asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror.

"You could say that," Erik muttered.

"It's yer girlfriend, ain't it?" the cabbie said knowingly.

"Boyfriend, actually," he replied then stopped. Boyfriend? Were they actually…no. Almost, but no. But the way it slipped off his lips so easily, it felt and sounded right.

"Want some advice?" Apparently the cabbie didn't care either way.

"Not really, no."

"Unless he's waitin' for you at the airport, runnin' ain't gonna solve nothing." He took the exit for the airport. "You and he get inna fight, words 're said and things 'appen that shouldn't." His eyes met Erik's in the mirror and he said seriously, "You can't run from love. It'll find you, no matter where you go."

Erik blinked. Love advice from a taxi driver. What a cliché. "You don't understand." I could put him in danger, if I let myself be with him.

The car slowed to a stop at the light and the driver twisted around to stare at him. "Mebbe I don't. Mebbe you think you and he got no chance. But I seen a lot of people who run when relationships get hard, when life gets hard, an' I always hope t' help the next one out a bit." He shrugged and drove on. "Take the advice or not, I jus' offer."

"Yeah, well, excuse me if I don't take advice from a stranger," Erik retorted but he couldn't help but wonder…No. He shut that thought down firmly. He was going home and he was going to take a break, from everything.

The taxi pulled up to the airport curb a couple minutes later. Erik paid him in silence and walked inside, trailing his suitcase behind him. The place was busy but he got to the front of the line with a flash of his badge and soon enough he was relaxing into the first class seat of a jumbo jet headed to Washington, D.C. Sometimes it was nice to work for the government.

* * *

By the time the group made it back to Charles' apartment, it was around six thirty and Charles wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch with a book and Chinese takeout. Logan pushed the door open and Charles trailed in after him, idly wondering when Erik was going to be released from the hospital. Logan made a beeline for the kitchen as Scott darted past Charles to the table. Scott caught his eye and tilted his head towards the hall.

Confused, Charles opened his mouth to ask what he wanted but Scott shook his head quickly and put a finger to his lips. Charles shrugged and followed Scott down the hall, noting that Logan seemed oblivious to their actions. Scott silently opened the door to his bedroom, motioned him in, then slid in and closed the door just as quietly. Charles flicked on the light and turned to face the agent.

"Scott, what—" Charles began.

Scott thrust a folded piece of paper at him. "Here. It's for you."

Taken aback, Charles took it. "What is it?" He glanced down at it, dropping his bag onto the floor by his bed as he did.

"Just read it. And whatever you do, don't let Logan know about it." With that, Scott slipped out into the hall, closing the door behind him.

Charles frowned after him. "Okaaaayyy…..That was weird." How did he know about the paper? Why shouldn't Logan know about it? Intrigued, Charles unfolded it. And stared. He recognized that handwriting—it was Erik's. But how could Erik have written him a letter when he was still in the hospital?

 _Charles,_

 _I know you'll think me a coward for putting this in a letter, but I knew that if I saw you I wouldn't be able to keep my resolve._

Charles stopped, lifted his head, frowning. "Put _what_ in a letter? What are you talking about, Erik?" he asked the empty room before bowing his head again.

 _When I started this mission, I never expected to like you. In fact, I was determined not to. My plan was to change your mind. Make you drop out. But as I got to know you over these past couple months, I realized something._

 _You're not at all what I'd thought. You're kind, generous, sweet, smart, handsome, strong, wonderful…_

 _And that's a problem._

"How is that a problem?" Charles scowled at the paper.

 _You see, Charles, you gave me back something I never knew I'd been missing, something that's been absent in my life since my parents died. You managed to get past all of the barriers I'd put up over the years to keep people out, without my ever realizing what had happened until it was too late._

 _You see…I'm in love with you, Charles._

Charles put a hand over his mouth, his breath hitching. He reread that line, once, twice, three times before it sunk in. Erik loved him.

But there was more to the letter.

 _And I can't be. I can't be with you and still be an agent. I'd be distracted, worrying about you all the time. I'd put you in danger just by being with you. I won't do that. Not with the amount of enemies I've made over the years. So I've done the only thing left to me. The only thing I know how to do._

 _I left._

 _I know you'll be a great President. I'll vote for you._

 _This is goodbye, Charles, and good luck._

 _Erik_

Charles sank slowly down onto the edge of his bed, staring at those final words and feeling his heart start to break in half. _He wouldn't…_ On an impulse, he leaned over and fumbled in his bag for his phone. He dialed Erik's number and waited, the letter crinkling in his left hand.

 _Ring._

 _Ring._

 _Ri_ —

"I guess you got my letter."

"You left?!" Not what he'd intended to start with but it worked just as well. Charles heard Erik sigh over the phone.

"Charles…I had to."

"Where are you? When did you get out of the hospital? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I got released this afternoon. I didn't want you to know because you'd stop me from going home."

"With good reason! You can't just leave me a letter like that and expect that to explain everything!" In some part of his brain, Charles realized he was acting like those girls in all the rom com's Raven made him watch. The ones he most definitely did not enjoy. At all. No matter what Raven said.

Erik remained silent and Charles closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts. Taking a deep breath, he asked quietly, "Did you mean it?"

Erik sounded tired as he responded, "Mean what?"

"That you love me."

"Charles, that's not the poi—"

" _Do you love me?_ " Charles' voice was heated, intense; he had to know. His grip tightened, crinkling the note into an accordion-like shape.

Silence. Then—

" _Yes_ ," Erik breathed, like it was a secret. Their secret. Charles' heart skipped a beat and he pressed the phone tighter to his ear, as if that would bring them closer together. "But that doesn't matter because I won't let things go any further than they have. I won't put you in danger."

Charles retorted, "I'm already _in_ danger. Haven't I been in danger for months? That's the whole reason we met! Is that not a constant thing for presidents to think about? Having you with me wouldn't put me in danger, Erik; it would keep me _out_ of it!"

"I'm not budging on this. Not with your life at stake." Now Erik was starting to sound angry which just made Charles more incensed.

"Exactly! _My_ life! My choice! I choose you, Erik. I want you, consequences be damned." His voice softened. "I love you."

Erik sighed again, huffing into the phone. "Goodbye, Charles."

"No, Erik, wait, I—" but the dial tone in his ear stopped him. Charles slowly lowered the phone, staring at the menu screen, his mouth open slightly. His gaze flicked between his cell phone and Erik's letter, the objects starting to blur in front of him. He tried calling Erik again but it just rolled into voicemail.

He had no idea how long he sat there on the bed before the sound of someone knocking on the door interrupted him. He blinked a couple times, went to run a hand through his hair only to smack himself with his phone. _Oh…right._ Erik.

"Charles?" It was Scott, sounding hesitant. "You want anything from that Chinese place?"

He scrubbed at his eyes quickly with the back of his hand and realized he was crying a bit. So that was why things were blurry. His chest hurt and his heart felt shattered into a million pieces.

The door opened, letting in light and sounds from the rest of the apartment. "Charles? Everything okay?"

"I'm fine," he managed, surprising himself with how even his voice was. "I'm not really hungry right now."

"What did the letter say?"

Damn it, why wouldn't he just go away? Didn't he understand Charles just wanted to be alone? "Just…just Erik saying goodbye. That's all. Would you mind…" He swallowed. Tried again. "Could I have a few minutes alone?"

Scott's voice softened. "Sure, Charles. But just so you know, Alex and I are here if you need to talk." Charles nodded, unable to look at him, and the door closed, leaving him in silence.

The phone slipped from his hand to hit the floor, bouncing once; the letter floated down after it. Charles dropped his face into his hands, letting it all out. He slid off the bed and onto the floor, his back resting against the mattress as his shoulders shook with his sobs.

In all of his imaginings of how this romance would play out, having his heart ripped out in a letter and then again over the phone had never come into play. Never mind that Erik would be all noble about it. He pulled his knees up, curled his arms around them and buried his face in his arms.


	14. Chapter 14

**I know this is super late but I've been working on the last few chapters and the characters are fighting me a bit. Anyway, hope you like it.**

* * *

Charles leaned against the table, sipped absently at his tea, and glanced around his living room. Jean and Scott were talking with Raven and Hank on the couch; Logan leaned against the front door, scowling at everyone; Sean was on his phone on the couch; Alex and Darwin were off to the side—Charles smiled faintly at their closeness; he'd sensed they'd get along well—and Emma was typing away on her iPad in the armchair.

"I don't think I've ever seen you look this morose, Charles."

He looked to his left at Moira's concerned tone and shrugged.

She settled in next to him and asked quietly, "Everything all right?"

He brushed her off with a quick, "Just worried about the outcome of the election is all."

But he should have known better than to try to lie to an old college friend. She called bullshit immediately. "This has something to do with that big hulking agent by the door, doesn't it? And the fact that someone is conspicuously absent?"

He sipped at his tea again. Erik still refused to answer his phone. "Erik's on medical leave so Logan's in charge. Everything's fine." There. That should hold her off, at least for a bit.

"Mmhmm." Her tone informed him that she did not, in fact, believe him. "Did you have a fight? Or do I need to ask Raven what's going on? Because I really thought he would be here for this, since you talk about him all the time."

Charles sighed. "Moira, I love you dearly, but could we focus on one obstacle at a time?"

"Define obstacle."

He frowned at her. She was just like Raven at times, refusing to let things go when he didn't want to talk. "When do the results start to come in?" he asked instead, changing the subject.

Emma responded from her perch on the chair, "Any time now; I'm in touch with one of the volunteers. Change the channel. Fox News, if you wouldn't mind."

Sean hit the button on the remote and they were treated to a couple of news reporters talking about the race so far while local results scrolled along the bottom: levies, local elections, school boards, taxes, etc. Then a map of the U.S.A. appeared, replacing the reporters, though they continued talking. Raven shushed everyone excitedly, leaning forward, wineglass tilting precariously forward.

The first state lit up in the far south—red, in favor of Shaw.

A minute later, a couple more lit up—also red.

Ten minutes in and the only states with votes counted were red. Charles' heart had sunk and he had abandoned his tea for a glass of Scotch, feeling more than a little depressed. Losing the election would be the icing on the cake that was his life lately.

When the map had reached a total of ten red states, mainly in the southeast, Charles downed the rest of his Scotch and opened his mouth to say he was going to go work on lesson plans.

"Look!" Jean pointed at the TV.

Charles felt his mouth drop open slightly as the first state on the east coast lit up a startling blue.

They'd voted for him.

A minute later, two more popped up blue, followed by a couple red in the Midwest.

Over the next half hour, the map on the television screen slowly lit up in equal parts red and blue. Charles was now leaning over the back of the couch, eyes glued to the screen, tentative hope in his chest. They were all avidly watching, even Logan.

Charles' gaze dropped to the bar logging the count of electoral votes. Shaw was about thirty points ahead of him, despite the steadily growing number of blue. Charles now had the west coast as well.

His heart was racing, pounding in his chest in anticipation. This was crazy. He'd never imagined it would feel like this, that he would want this so much.

"Oh my god," Emma suddenly said as the map altered once more.

"What?" Charles asked, suddenly worried.

"You have four of the six swing states."

He blinked. "That's…good. Right?"

She grinned at him. "That's very good. But we'll have to see who gets Ohio. They're pretty good at predicting the winner."

Charles refilled his Scotch and took a large swallow, throwing a quick look at the clock in the kitchen—it was nearing eleven o'clock at night.

More red states lit up and Charles' hopes took a dip. _Come on, Ohio, choose me,_ he thought.

Finally, there were only five states left: Florida, Louisiana, Alaska, New Mexico, and Ohio.

Florida—gray. Undecided?

Alaska—red.

New Mexico—blue.

Lousiana—red.

Ohio…

Blue.

The map shrunk to the top right corner of the screen and the news reporters were shown again but Charles couldn't hear anything. Couldn't see anything past the bar that showed that he had won.

He'd won.

Someone kissed his cheek.

Someone else hugged him tight. He lost his drink along the way as people kept hugging him.

Noises finally started filtering through the rush of blood in his head and he felt his lips tug upward in a slow smile that spread into a wide grin. He'd done it. He'd won. President Xavier. Now that felt right.

Charles looked around, grabbed his sister and pulled her close.

She hugged him tight, whispered in his ear, "Congratulations, Charles!" and kissed his cheek.

He laughed, letting her go, and joined in the festivities around him.

But there was something missing, something off about the whole thing.

* * *

A little over 200 miles away, Erik lifted his beer bottle to the television screen and said softly, "Congratulations, Charles. You deserve it. You're going to make an amazing President." His heart hurt but he knew he'd made the right decision, leaving. Charles didn't need him around, distracting him and putting him in danger. Erik swallowed past the lump in his throat. He smiled faintly and shut the TV off.

* * *

"Mr. Xavier, let me first say congratulations. I know it's been hard on you, especially these last few months, but you more than deserve it."

Charles forced a smile at the words. "Thank you. It's still a bit surreal, though. I don't think it'll sink in fully until I'm in the White House."

The Director of the Secret Service smiled back at him and gestured to the chair opposite him. "Please, sit down." Once they were both seated, Mason continued, "So this is the part where we discuss security for the next four years."

Charles nodded. He'd figured that would be the first thing they discussed, considering they still didn't have the person behind all the threats.

Mason gathered a few papers in front of him and clicked open a pen. "I'd like to start with assigning your personal detail. Typically I like to make it between five and ten agents, depending upon your location and what event you're attending." Charles nodded again; it made sense. "Now, I know you've had a few of my agents already so I was wondering if you wanted to keep any of them. Is there anyone in particular you would like me to assign to your detail?"

"Erik Lensherr," Charles said immediately. He wanted Erik by his side, no matter what.

The Director's mouth twisted slightly and, sounding a little reluctant, said, "I'm afraid Agent Lensherr is unavailable for the foreseeable future."

Charles' heart tightened in a moment of panic. "Is he all right? The gunshot…"

Mason shook his head. "He's under doctor's orders to take it easy for the next few weeks. But he's also put in a request for a leave of absence. After the assignments I've had to give him in the past year, I've granted his request." The Director shuffled some papers and asked, "Is there anyone else you'd prefer?"

No Erik. But why hadn't he said anything? Then again, it wasn't like he was answering Charles' texts or phone calls. "Scott Summers," he said abruptly. "Alex Summers. Angel Salvadore, Jean Grey. I want all four." After a moment's pause, Charles met the Director's gaze and added, "And I want Erik, as soon as he's available."

The Director's pen paused for a second then continued to scratch across the paper. "I'll make a note of your decision, Mr. President." His voice was decidedly even, no reaction. "I'll add a few more, to fill it out. Just a couple more things and then you can go."

* * *

A little over an hour later, Charles stood up and thanked the Director, shaking his hand firmly. They were on the same page for the most part, something Charles was relieved about. Turning to go, he put his hand on the doorknob and stopped, frowning. He wrestled with his thoughts for a minute before he turned back around and said, a bit hesitant, "Sir, if I may ask…was—was Erik right? Was Sebastian Shaw behind everything that happened to me and Raven?"

Director Mason nodded, looking a bit tired. "It certainly looks like it. The shooter gave him up in a heartbeat the instant we informed him he'd get a lighter sentence if he gave us the name of his employer." Mason shook his head sadly. "One of our own. I don't want to believe it."

"Have you found him?"

Mason shook his head again. "We will, Mr. Xavier. I can promise you, we will get this son of a bitch. Don't you worry."

Charles thanked him again, turned to go, and paused again. When he turned around this time, Mason lifted an eyebrow expectantly. Charles bit his lip. "Could…when you catch him, would you give Shaw a message from me?"

Mason looked surprised but nodded just the same.

Charles took a quick breath. "Would you tell him thank you for me?"

"Thank you?" Mason repeated, clearly confused.

Charles nodded, a little smile playing across his lips. "Yes. If it wasn't for him—for the threats—I never would have met Erik. Or the others. Never would have become President."

Mason smiled, understanding now. "I will make certain that Sebastian Shaw understands exactly how appreciative you are of his recent actions."

They were both grinning now, Charles relieved that Mason apparently not only understood but approved. "Very appreciative," he agreed. "Thank you, Director, for your time today."

Mason inclined his head. "My pleasure, Mr. President." He sounded like he meant it.

Charles smiled to himself as he left, pulling the door quietly closed behind him. So long as he had people like Mason on his team, he knew he could do this. He just wished he could talk to Erik, however briefly it might be. _I wonder if Scott or Alex know why Erik is taking time off._

"Hey," Raven said, hopping up from the bench across from him, her phone sliding into her coat pocket. "Did you get everyone?"

He shook his head and started down the hall, Raven slipping her arm through his as they walked. "Not quite," he replied.

"What do you mean, not quite?"

"Erik has taken a leave of absence from the agency."

She stopped, forcing him to stop as well. "What!?"

Charles smiled ruefully. "My thoughts exactly."

"Well…tell him we need him. That you need him!"

"It's not that simple, love. I can't force him to work, can't force him to want to be around me, however much I would like to." Charles gently tugged on her arm and they started walking again, falling in step behind the two agents who had escorted them in.

It was as they exited the elevator on the ground floor and left their escorts behind that Raven spoke again. "Call him. Find out what's going on." Logan trailed behind them.

"I've tried. He's ignored every call since the first." The words of Erik's breakup letter to him were burned into his brain. ' _I'm in love with you, Charles. And I can't be. I can't be with you and still be an agent. I've left.'_ Charles sighed heavily. "Give it up, Raven. Erik's chosen a different path, one I can't follow. I'll just have to rely on the four wonderful agents we already have."

They shoved the front doors open and stepped out into the afternoon sunlight where Alex and Scott were waiting. Angel and Jean were at the curb ahead with the car. They all had the look on their face that told him they wanted to know what the meeting was about but wouldn't ask. Charles waited until they were all together at the curb before he satisfied their curiosity. "Director Mason wanted to discuss security with me." He pulled open the car door and paused. Smiling widely, he added, "You're all staying." They all knew that he wasn't including Logan; his feelings for the man were clear: he couldn't stand the man.

Alex let out a "Whoop!" and Raven hugged Angel. Jean and Scott kissed and Charles tried not to feel jealous. It wasn't their fault that they were happily in love and he was doomed to be alone. _I wonder what the female version of a spinster is called._ They all climbed inside the car and headed for the airport to return to New York. Mason had agreed to let him finish out the semester before he had to move to D.C., thankfully enough. So he had a month to pack…which he would need with all of his books.

* * *

Over the next four weeks, Charles and his friends slowly packed up his apartment. Mason had agreed to wait until the end of the semester but Charles knew he would have to move fast once it ended. It was almost heartbreaking the day he and Raven started packing up his office, like he was closing that chapter of his life for good although he knew he could always come back when his term was up. Whenever he needed a break from packing up his life in New York, Charles rewrote final exams. He always wrote a few, anyway, to decide which questions he liked best. But this time it was sort of a way to say goodbye and he wanted them to be good.

* * *

Erik spent three days a week in physical therapy. He stopped into the office twice after returning home: once for a debriefing, the second to put in for time off. He figured he'd go back to Germany for a visit, see his old home and his parents' gravestones. After three weeks, Erik was back to his old running path through the streets but he never seemed to be satisfied with his progress. He could barely feel any pain by now, but the scars went far deeper than the physical mark on his stomach. It didn't help that D.C. was slowly shifting towards Charles, making it impossible for Erik to forget the impossibly blue-eyed earnest professor.

* * *

Charles made final arrangements with the Human Resources department to officially resign from his position as Head of the Sciences Department at Columbia University—and was pleasantly surprised to be told that he would always have a position with them should he choose to return. Director Mason sent information about where he would be staying until the swearing-in ceremony and he started shipping boxes south.

* * *

 **Also, slightly biased because I live in Ohio :D**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi, I'm working on my last month of graduate school. Hi to all the new readers and lovers of the story, to those who have read from the start, and thank you to all of you who have read/liked/favorited/followed the story and/or me. Love you all**

 **Here's the next chapter, hope you like it. It's also way longer than the previous one but I didn't want to interrupt the flow.**

* * *

Erik jogged in place, waiting for the crosswalk light to switch over to the pedestrian light, snow starting to fall, and pulled out his phone to switch songs to something with more of a beat. Flipping through a couple options, his phone suddenly vibrated in his hand with a text alert. Frowning, Erik tapped the screen to open it and nearly dropped his phone. He stopped moving, people bumping into him as the crosswalk changed but he couldn't look away from the device in his hand.

 _Mount Sinai Hospital. Urgent._

It was from Scott. Erik hadn't gotten an update from him in a week or so and now…

 _Oh no, Charles._ He turned and bolted back to his house, flinging open the door when he got there. His phone landed on the couch, earbuds dangling onto the floor, _Eye of the Tiger_ now blasting away. Erik showered as quickly as he could manage, preferring not to stink of sweat when he saw Charles again, threw on jeans and a turtleneck and grabbed his go-bag from the closet. He shrugged into a coat and stepped outside, shoving his phone in his pocket. The snow was falling harder now.

He hailed the first taxi he could see, hopped in and snapped, "Airport. Extra twenty bucks if you take the direct route." Tires squealed against pavement and Erik pulled out his phone to check departure times for New York. One left in forty-five minutes; he could make it.

His foot tapped out a staccato rhythm on the mat as the taxi whipped in and out of traffic. He had his money out before the car came to a stop in front of the terminal. "Here," he said quickly. "And the extra."

Erik found the first ticket counter and cut in line, flashing his government badge to the employee. People already in line grumbled and yelled but he ignored them.

The young blonde at the counter blinked at him, peered forward to look at the badge and smiled shakily at him. "What can I do for you, Agent?"

"A ticket on the first flight out to New York."

"Ah, yes, okay." She turned to the computer terminal next to her and typed on it for a bit. Erik resisted the urge to tap his fingers on the counter. Charles could be dead by now for all he knew. No, he quickly shut down that line of thought. If Charles were dead, Scott would have told him. "You're in luck," the woman turned back to him with a steadier smile. "There's a flight leaving for New York from Gate 4 in fifteen minutes with a few seats left. Do you prefer first class or coach?"

"I don't care," he snapped. "Just get me on the damn flight."

She flinched and returned to the computer. After a moment, she said, "I…Method of payment?" He slid a credit card over; she swiped it and returned it along with a receipt, ticket and boarding pass. "Have a nice day," she called after him as he hurried to the gate.

He barely made it on the plane, settling into his seat as the flight attendant gave the safety speech. Erik pulled his phone out and sent Scott a text saying he was on his way then had to shut it off.

* * *

One long flight and another cab ride later, Erik slammed a hand down on the receptionist's desk and demanded, "Charles Xavier, what room is he in?"

The middle-aged woman looked up at him over the rims of her glasses and raised an eyebrow at him. "Can I help you?" she asked flatly.

Erik gritted his teeth. Scott hadn't answered him when he landed so he still had no clue what had happened. Surfing the web had told him nothing, either. "Charles Xavier," he repeated. "What. Room. Is. He. In?"

"Name?"

"I already _told_ you."

"Not his, yours." She reached for a clipboard.

"Erik Lensherr."

She scanned the papers. "Not on the list, sorry."

He couldn't have heard that right. "Excuse me?" Not on the list? "What list?"

The woman—Madge, he now saw on her nametag—raised her eyebrow again. "The list of people approved to go up. You're not on it so I cannot tell you which room he's in."

He huffed out a breath in frustration and yanked out his badge. "I'm Secret Service, does that help?"

Madge shook her head. "Nope," she informed him, popping the "p" as she did.

He was fully prepared to force her to tell him what room Charles was in when he heard someone call his name from behind. Whirling, hand flying to the gun holstered at his waist, Erik's shoulders dropped in relief when he saw who it was. "Jean."

"Erik. What are you doing here?" Jean asked, her face looking pinched with exhaustion and concern as she approached him, two drink carriers in her hands.

"Scott texted me the hospital and that it was urgent. What the hell happened? Is everyone okay?"

Jean opened her mouth to say something, stopped, then leaned around him and called out, "He's okay, Madge! Add him to the list. I'll take him up."

"Sure thing, Agent Grey," the old biddy said agreeably. Erik shot her a glare but she was looking down.

Erik followed Jean to the elevator but she didn't say anything until they were inside and the door had closed. She hit the button for the sixth floor, he noted absently. "Jean?" he prompted.

She sighed. "This is going to be hard to hear."

"Just hit me with it." He was already assuming the worst in regards to Charles. How much worse could it be?

"They were hit on the way to the car on campus."

"Hit?" Erik interrupted. He couldn't help it.

She nodded. "Yeah. Whole team of them. Came out of nowhere." She took a breath then said softly, "Logan's dead."

Erik reeled, the words like a punch to the gut. He hadn't liked the man but that didn't mean he wanted Logan dead. "What?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "It was a surprise to us, too."

He ran a hand through his hair. "Scott? Alex? Ch—?" He couldn't quite bring himself to finish Charles' name.

Jean gave him a sympathetic look. "Scott's got a broken arm but that's the worst of it. Some scrapes and bruises. Alex is in surgery; knife to the gut."

 _Mein Gott_ (Translation: _Oh my god_ ). "And Charles?"

Jean opened her mouth to answer but the elevator door opened at that point and they stepped out. He followed her to the floor's reception desk where he was again added to a list and given a visitor's badge. As they started away, Erik reached over and plucked the top drink carrier out of her hands. Jean gave him a grateful smile and turned the corner. As they walked, Jean told him, "Charles has a dislocated shoulder, three broken ribs and a mild concussion."

Erik swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. So…not the worst, then. But Charles was hurt. And he hadn't been there to help. That would weigh on him forever.

Charles' room was clearly marked by the two men in suits bracketing the doorway. Jean stopped and held out the drink carrier. "Hey, Richardson, Dixon. Coffee?"

They eyed Erik, reaching out to take a cup. Erik returned their looks evenly, studying them in turn. Jean huffed. "Can we do the macho man stare some other time? Guys, this is Erik. He was with us at the start, before he got too injured to stay on. Erik, they were added after Charles won the election. They're okay."

They still stared each other down for a bit more until Jean rolled her eyes and shoved the door open. "I brought coffee," she announced loudly, taking the carrier out of Erik's hands.

Erik took a deep breath. _Here we go,_ he thought and stepped into the room, letting the door squeak shut behind him. Jean was passing cups around. Scott leaned against the wall and Erik noted the sling. Angel stood next to him. Raven was sitting in a chair next to the hospital bed in which Charles lay. Charles had a bandage around his forehead, his left arm in a sling and looked like he'd been scraped against the ground at one point.

No one had noticed his entrance yet.

Then Scott caught his eye, straightened slightly and said, relieved, "You made it."

All eyes in the room were suddenly on him. He cleared his throat and managed, "I texted you I was coming."

Scott's brow furrowed briefly before clearing. "Oh, sorry. I think I remember it buzzing but there was so much going on that I forgot to get back to you."

Raven stood up then and glanced between Scott and Erik. "You told him we were here?" Scott nodded and she continued, "Who gave you permission? What if Charles didn't want to see him? He _left!_ "

"Raven," Charles said quietly.

"It's true, Charles! He left and he broke your heart in a fucking _NOTE_ , for god's sake!" Raven glared at him from her brother's bedside, hands on her hips.

He had nothing to say to that. It was all true, no matter how much he regretted it, both then and now.

Jean stepped between them and said calmly, "Why don't we give Charles and Erik a moment alone to work things out, yeah?"

Scott pushed off from the wall, said, "Good idea, babe," and kissed her cheek. He stopped in front of Erik on his way out and said quietly, "He missed you, a lot more than he's willing to say. But he's really hurt, so tread carefully." Erik nodded and stepped aside for everyone to leave.

Raven was the last, leaving only after checking with Charles. "I'm warning you right now, Erik. You hurt him again and not even Tempest out there will find your body."

He nodded. "That's not my intention, Raven."

"No," she responded. "It's never anyone's intention to hurt someone they care about, but it happens anyway." On that positive note, she left, slamming the door behind her.

Erik didn't know what to do with his hands and Charles wouldn't look at him, hadn't since Erik had walked in. What did you say to someone you broke up with?

Minutes passed; Erik wasn't sure how many. Neither of them apparently knew what to say and Erik stared at the floor, trying to figure out how to break the ice, so to speak.

"Didn't think you'd care enough to come." Charles's quiet comment broke the heavy silence finally.

Erik winced at the amount of bitterness in Charles' voice. He replied quietly, "I'll always care about what happens to you."

"Sure you do. That's why you wrote that lovely letter and vanished." Now sarcasm had joined the bitterness.

Erik forced himself to look up. Damn it, he was a Secret Service agent! He'd faced down guns, bombs, terrorists and he couldn't face his former lover? He was making a concerted effort to speak in English rather than the German he flipped to when he was emotional. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

Charles pushed himself up to a sitting position and gestured at himself. "Does this look like you did the right thing?"

"I should have been there, I know."

"Yeah, you should've. But you weren't." Charles took a shaky breath and it made Erik feel better that Charles was just as off kilter as he was. "You really hurt me, you know? That letter practically ripped my heart out."

Erik closed his eyes. It had ripped his heart out to write it. "I know."

"'I know'? That's all you can say… _I know_?!" Charles voice went up an octave. "What about I'm sorry? Or, I was an idiot? How about something like that, hmm?"

Erik took a step forward. "I _am_ sorry. You'll never know just how sorry I am. God, I…" Erik ran his hand through his hair.

* * *

Charles studied him from his hospital bed. Erik looked wrecked. And his apology sounded sincere. Yes, he'd broken Charles' heart and ignored him for over a month but he was here, now. That had to count for something, right? "I'm not sure I can forgive you right now," he said quietly, his abrupt temper spent.

Erik responded with, "I'm not expecting you to." Again, he sounded sincere.

Charles nodded. Good. He couldn't figure out what he was feeling right then anyway. And did Erik have to wear jeans? Charles loved how he looked in jeans. _No, don't think about that right now._ Was it possible to hate someone and yet still be in love with that same person?

Erik took another step closer. "Can I ask what happened? All Jean said was you were attacked on campus?"

"Yeah. Surprise attack; they must have been waiting for me to get out of class." Charles flopped back against his pillow and winced. _Bad idea._ Erik started forward as if to do something but stopped himself. Charles was glad he didn't have to decide if he was relieved or disappointed. "I'm not really sure what happened; it was all a blur, really. One minute I'm following Logan out to the car, the next I'm watching Logan drop to the ground and not get back up. The others surrounded me but then we were attacked and I was pinned against someone." Charles laughed a little bitterly. "I remembered what you taught me. I broke his grip and ran off. That's probably when I dislocated my shoulder. I kept looking for Scott or Alex but I couldn't find them." He fell silent for a moment.

Erik moved closer, rested his hand on the back of the chair Raven had been using. "When did you hurt your head?"

Charles laughed again. "To be honest, I don't really remember getting hurt. I remember Scott shouting Alex's name, people shouting mine." He lifted his right shoulder in a shrug. "I think I fought some more? Turned out I remembered more of your training than I thought I did; so thanks for that."

"Not sure if that's a compliment or not." Erik's tone was light, striving to lessen the tension still between them. Charles wasn't sure if he appreciated it or not.

"An ambulance arrived and by then I was having trouble breathing and focusing on anything in particular. Scott was hovering over Alex, shouting at him to stay awake and I remember thinking that I'd done something similar but it didn't click in my head until later." Their eyes met and for a moment they were back on that theatre stage before the debate. Charles broke the connection before he could blurt out something stupid, like _I love you_. He fiddled with his sling. "After that, I must have blacked out so you'll have to ask Scott for the details."

Erik was quiet when Charles finished. "I am so sorry about everything that's happened. You have every right to hate me right now, Charles."

"I don't hate you," Charles said automatically, despite his earlier thoughts. Erik raised an eyebrow and Charles shook his head. "Fine. I hate you a little, but that's to be expected, considering the events."

"Which are entirely my fault."

"Did you expect me to disagree with that? Because I'm not going to."

"It nearly killed me to leave you, you know. But I thought I would be too distracted to keep you safe, that by leaving I would somehow take Shaw's attention off you. Now I see that I was wrong."

Charles lifted an eyebrow. "I did try to tell you that, if you'll recall."

The corners of Erik's lips quirked upward briefly. "I remember."

"I also recall that you hung up on me," Charles continued.

"Because I knew that if I let you keep talking, I would come back in a heartbeat."

"Maybe you should have," he retorted quickly, his voice full of bitterness and hurt.

Erik winced and ran a hand through his hair again. "I should have. I really should have. And I know I hurt you, a lot, and I'm really sorry for that."

Charles pointed out, "You've said that already."

"Because I mean it."

The door to the room opened and Raven poked her blonde head in. "I don't hear shouting. Charles, don't tell me you've forgiven the bastard already?"

Erik rolled his eyes and Charles fought the urge to smile. "No, Raven, I have not. But not all of us solve our problems by shouting." Perhaps a change of subject was in order. "Have you heard anything about Alex?"

She opened her mouth then ducked out of sight. Charles smiled and heard Erik huff a laugh. Scott's head poked around next. "Alex is in recovery, Charles. Doc says he's gonna be fine and he'll be your roommate as soon as he wakes up."

"That's wonderful, Scott," Charles said, relief in his voice.

Erik said, "That's good to hear, Scott."

"Thanks. I'll, uh, leave you guys to finish talking," and Scott pulled out, closing the door.

Erik glanced at him. "I suppose we should tell them they can come back in."

Charles shifted against the pillow, making his blanket slide down. With a frown he reached for it and his hand brushed Erik's, who had been reaching to do the same thing. Charles jerked his hand back, trying to ignore the rush. "Yeah," he managed as Erik resettled the blanket against him.

Erik asked, "I know we have more to talk about but I think if Raven doesn't come back in soon, she's going to burst."

Charles chuckled a little, despite himself, and pressed a hand lightly against his ribs. He blew his breath out slowly. "No, we're not done, yet. But we're getting there. And I do appreciate you coming to check on me."

"Scott sent me just enough to send me into a panic."

"What _did_ he text you?" Charles asked, curious.

"The name of the hospital and that it was urgent."

"That's it? Well, it got you here."

Erik smiled softly at him. "That it did."

Charles swallowed hard. "I'll have to thank Scott for keeping in touch with you."

"Me, too." Erik paused then said, "Okay if I let them back in?" Charles nodded and Erik went to the door to tell them it was all right to come back. They came in slowly, leaving Richardson and Dixon outside.

Raven shot Erik a glare and promptly took the chair next to Charles, an air of protectiveness about her. Charles hid a smile. Awkwardness filled the room for a moment until Angel asked, "Are you taking lead again, Erik?"

* * *

Erik blinked, surprised. "Do you want me back?" He actually hadn't thought past making sure that Charles was all right.

Scott said with a shrug, "You know Shaw better than anyone. You've been an agent longer than the rest of us."

"You're all okay with me in charge again, even after the way I left?" He wasn't going to shy away from his mistake and he didn't expect his friends to either. That brought him up short for a minute. Somehow, impossibly, these four young agents had become his friends over the course of the assignment, just as Charles had managed to worm his way into Erik's heart. He looked from Scott to Jean to Angel—all of whom nodded in agreement. He turned to Charles, who studied him for a good couple minutes. Erik bore the scrutiny patiently. Charles had the final say in the matter.

Finally Charles said quietly, "I haven't fully forgiven you, but I do feel safer with you nearby, so…yes. I'm okay with you taking charge of my protection again, Erik."

Erik locked eyes with him and nodded, understanding the trust and faith that Charles had just put in him. And the responsibility that he'd just taken on again. He took a breath, getting back in the mindset of agent. "Okay, then. First, I'd like to see Logan's body and make sure someone from the agency takes care of it. Then I want extra security. Those two stay out there but someone is inside this room with Charles at all times.

"I want to know what happened and I want to know the timetable you've been using to get ready to move to D.C.," Erik continued, aware that Scott and the girls were nodding. "Whatever safe house you've been planning to move into is no longer a viable option. Shaw knows the agency's safe houses."

Angel asked, "So where will Charles be safe until he takes the oath of office?"

Erik thought for a moment, flicking through possible options. They couldn't use any safe houses, and probably not the hotels…He turned to Charles and asked, "Would you be opposed to staying at one of our places?"

Charles looked startled. "Y-you mean, stay in your house?"

"Well, mine or Angel's, or Scott and Jean's," Erik suggested. The brothers and Jean lived together.

Charles bit his lip, glanced at his sister. "Well…if you could guarantee that I'd be safe…Then, no. I wouldn't be opposed to that plan."

"Okay." Erik nodded. He'd discuss logistics with Scott and Angel later. Figure out which of their places was the safest for Charles.

A knock at the door interrupted the conversation, followed by Dixon's head. "Agent Summers has arrived."

"Thanks, Dixon," Jean responded.

The door opened fully and a nurse pushed Alex's bed in, maneuvering it into position on the other end of the room, next to the window. She gave them all a smile and a wave before she left. Scott immediately came over to his brother's side.

"Hey, little brother, how you doin'?" Scott asked gently.

Alex smiled widely. "Hey, hey, big bro, howzit hangin'?"

Scott rolled his eyes. "Painkillers, right?"

"S'good stuff, man." Alex waved at the rest of the group. "Yo, 'rik's here! Heeyyy. Long time no see, bossman."

"Yeah." Scott shook his head, sounding amused as he stepped back. "He's high as a kite."

"At least one of us is having a good time right now," Erik muttered, glancing at Charles. He had to fix this. He checked the time on his phone, saw it was getting late and wondered if he should send them off to get some rest. He'd really rather not split them up but if they were going to move in a couple days, then they'd need to gather their things. "Scott, Jean, Angel, can I talk to you in the hall?"

Once in the hall, he asked what happened on campus then went to go see Logan's body. By the time he got back to the room, it was after nine and he still needed to talk to Director Mason. He slipped inside the room past Jean and Scott, having sent Richardson and Dixon to get some rest in the lounge with Angel and Raven. The lights were off; Alex was passed out in his bed by the window and Charles was out cold as well.

Erik stood at the foot of Charles' bed, thinking.

Planning.

Step one: get back on the job.

Step two: get Charles and Raven to D.C.

Step three: fix his relationship with Charles.

Step four: find a way to put Shaw in prison. For good.


	16. Chapter 16

**Oh my gosh, I hadn't realized it's been so long since I've updated! I'm so sorry! But...I am officially done with school now, so updates should come quicker (fingers crossed). So here's the next part, hope you like it, and thanks for sticking with me.**

* * *

Charles woke up to the sound of someone talking. Without moving, he tried to make out the words, see if he could recognize the speaker.

"—stand your position, sir, and I know that I put in for leave but I'm asking you to ignore that. I'm requesting to be back on full duty."

Charles rolled his head to the right in the pause that followed those words to find Erik standing in the middle of the room, his back to Charles.

When Erik spoke again, Charles realized he was on the phone. "Can't you do it faster than that? Override it or something?"

Charles frowned, waking up fully and shamelessly eavesdropping. Who was Erik talking to?

"That's bullshit! I'm perfectly fine!" Erik sounded pissed. Charles watched his silhouette shove a hand through his hair and walk over to the window. "I don't care what legal says, there's no way I can do that in time."

Erik sighed. "Mason, I have to be here. Charles, Raven, they _need_ me to be here. You and I both know that there is no one in this agency who knows Sebastian Shaw and how he thinks better than I do. I am the right person for this job and you know it."

Charles was startled at how emphatic Erik sounded. Mason? Oh, Erik was talking to his boss. Charles shifted a little to get comfortable and the bed squeaked slightly. He held his breath, praying Erik hadn't heard.

But of course he had. Erik turned around and Charles quickly closed his eyes and turned his head away, hoping Erik wouldn't notice in the darkened room.

"Is that your final say on the matter?" Now he sounded resigned. Charles was incredibly curious now. "Fine."

Silence. He couldn't even hear Erik's footsteps anymore. Maybe Erik thought he was still asleep?

"I know you're awake, Charles."

Busted. Biting back a sigh, he rolled his head back over to see Erik leaning on the back of the chair next to his bed. Erik asked, "How much of that did you hear?"

Charles considered lying, briefly, but ended up saying softly, "Enough to want to know what you were talking about."

Erik sighed heavily. "Just…typical bureaucracy shit." Charles tilted his head to the side in a silent question and Erik replied, "I asked Mason to put me back on active duty but he says he can't until I get a physical to prove to the legal department that I am in fact fit for duty. The catch is that I have to make an appointment with a doctor, who won't have an available slot for at least another week or so. Then I have to wait for it to get sent to legal and by then it's far too late."

"Oh," Charles said quietly. "So…what does that mean, exactly?"

Another sigh. "It means I can either leave, which puts Scott in charge, or I can stay, but as a civilian."

Charles had focused on the leaving part and felt a frisson of fear shoot through him. "But you're staying, right?" Erik opened his mouth to respond, but Charles rushed on to say, "Because I want you to. Civilian, agent, it doesn't matter to me. What matters to me…is that you're here. Now. No matter what happened before, I really do feel safer having you around."

Erik eyed him, his expression unreadable in the dark. "I was hoping you'd say that. I'll stay, as long as you want me around." Charles felt the beginnings of a blush. Erik added, "But just so you know, being a civilian means any actions I take to keep you two safe could land me in jail as opposed to being just part of the job."

He shook his head instantly. "Not possible."

"What's not possible?"

"You going to jail. I won't let that happen just because you're protecting me."

"Charles," Erik said, sounding a little exasperated, "you can't promise that."

Charles straightened, ignoring the twinge in his chest. "Of course I can," he said brightly. "I'm the next President of the United States. I can do whatever I want with my personal bodyguards."

Erik grinned, a white flash of teeth in the darkness. "There's the Charles I love."

His cheeks were hot now. _No,_ he couldn't think that way. Not yet. "I'm still mad at you," he managed.

"I know. And I'll take whatever you want: bodyguard, friend, lover…I'll wait until you're ready."

Okay, definitely time to end this conversation. He stammered, "I'm…uh…I'm going to, uh, get some sleep. Rest up." He rolled away from Erik as much as he was able and closed his eyes.

The last thing he heard before drifting off was Erik's quiet, "Good night, Charles."

* * *

The next couple days passed in much the same way. Charles and Alex healed and recovered their strength for the move to D.C. Erik, Scott and Jean worked on logistics. From Charles' eavesdropping, it sounded like Raven would be rooming with Angel and Charles would be…well, he would be moving in with Erik. Talk about no pressure.

Raven and Angel came and went, working on moving her things out of her dorm room as the semester drew to its final conclusion. When they were present, Charles and Raven spent their time playing card games or watching Netflix and YouTube videos. When Charles could move without too much pain, they moved to Alex's bed and hung out there.

The only time Charles interrupted the planning sessions was when he overheard them discussing how much it would cost to buy out the first class section of an airplane. He couldn't help it; he just called out, "That's not necessary."

"Explain." That came from Erik, unsurprisingly, but it was less of an order and more of a request for more information.

"Well," Charles said, a bit reluctantly, "I have a private jet. I don't use it all that much, though. I actually haven't used it for a long time but it's still in the hanger. I don't have a pilot anymore, though."

Erik raised an eyebrow. "You have a private jet and you're just now mentioning it?"

"Well, technically, my _family_ has a private jet, but yes. I don't have a pilot, though, like I said."

Erik hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin as he pushed away from the wall and started to pace. Charles knew he thought better when he was moving; it was endearing. He wrenched his mind away from that. If he thought too much about how he felt about Erik, then he would be forever thinking on the three little words that Erik said. About the fact that Erik had said them first and did not expect Charles to return them until he was ready. That alone threw Charles for a loop. He was usually the one who said it first and the fact that he couldn't now was telling. What it told, he couldn't figure out.

Or maybe he didn't want to figure it out yet.

After a minute of pacing, Erik abruptly said, "This could work in our favor."

Charles relaxed. He'd expected Erik to be more upset than this.

"What do you mean?" Jean asked.

"Well, I've been wondering how we could make sure that Shaw didn't have someone on the plane that could somehow get past us and to Charles. Buying out first class would only secure part of the plane, but if we can use Charles' family plane," and here he nodded in Charles' direction, "then that solves quite a lot. All we'd need to do is find a pilot who doesn't mind not knowing more than the destination."

Scott grinned. "No problem. I'll just call the airport and pull a few strings."

"Wait." Erik held out a hand. "No one can know Charles is flying to D.C. You can tell them the destination but make sure they know Charles is not involved at all. I am not taking any chances on Shaw having an informant."

"So why are we flying again?" Raven put in, her tone arch.

Erik told her calmly, "Because driving takes forever and it's too easy to box a car in or separate us. Taking the train or a bus is even worse because you can't get off if needed. Flying is actually the quickest and safest way to go."

Raven appeared to consider that for a moment then nodded. "Okay." She turned to Alex, holding out a hand. "Hit me."

"Raven," Charles sighed. "We are not playing blackjack, for the seventh time."

"We should be! I'm so much better at that than…what is this we're playing?"

Alex laughed as Charles scrubbed a hand over his face. "Rummy," he repeated tiredly. "We're playing rummy, Raven."

"And you're losing," Angel added with a grin from her perch against the wall next to them.

Raven instantly retorted, "Am not!"

Erik ignored them to send Jean and Scott to Charles' place to grab their things. Dixon and Richardson remained outside the door but Erik had refused to let them in on the plans, saying if no one outside their group knew then they couldn't be betrayed. Charles was concerned Erik was being paranoid but if it kept him out of Shaw's clutches…

* * *

"I'm pretty sure the agents out there know what's going on," Charles said from where he sat on the edge of his bed, swinging his legs back and forth.

Erik glanced across the room at him as he tightened the strap on his holster. He'd told the others about Mason's refusal to put him back on active duty and they were all just as certain as Charles that he wouldn't end up in jail. He'd been touched; he hadn't had friends in a long time and to find such unexpected ones was a blessing he didn't intend to lose.

Like he didn't intend to lose Charles again.

"They know we're leaving," Erik responded calmly. "That's all. Now come here."

Charles huffed but made his way around the group to stand in front of him, arms crossed. He'd ditched the sling this morning but still favored his left arm. He tilted his head back to look at Erik and Erik had to fight back the urge to touch him, he looked so kissable. He reached behind him and pulled a vest off the pile.

Charles lifted an eyebrow as he stared at it. "I'm not a vest person, sorry."

"You'll wear this one."

"Why?"

"It's bulletproof."

"Isn't that a bit overkill?"

Erik shook his head. "The point here is to minimize possible targets. The vest is nonnegotiable, Charles."

"Everything's negotiable," Charles retorted, but there was no bite to it as he took the vest. "Oof, it's heavy!"

"Yeah, and…?"

Charles shot him a glare as he slipped it over his head. Erik felt a smile lift his lips slightly—he'd missed these little repartees with Charles. Charles' arm got stuck in the sleeve and Erik's smile fell. _Ficken_ , _that's his injured arm_. He quickly stepped forward to help Charles' arm through, then went on to buckle up the side of the vest, trying and failing to ignore their proximity.

"Are you absolutely sure this is necessary?" Charles started again, as if he didn't feel anything.

Erik nodded, tightening one last strap. "Your safety is my only concern right now, and I will do whatever it takes to keep you in one piece. So, yes, to answer your question—the vest is absolutely necessary, Charles."

Charles scrunched his nose in that way he did when he wanted to keep arguing but couldn't find a legitimate reason to do so. Erik brushed a strand of hair behind Charles' ear and murmured, " _Ich liebe dich."_

Charles frowned up at him. "What does that mean?"

Erik just grinned. "If I recall correctly, you once wanted a German-English dictionary. Look it up." In a louder voice, he called, "Everyone set?"

A varied array of affirmatives responded and he met Scott's eye. Scott nodded and opened the door. "We're ready to move out," he informed Richardson and Dixon. They peered inside and nodded.

The group filed out, the two agents in front with Charles and Erik right behind. Then came Scott and Alex—still a bit unsteady, leaning on his brother—then Angel and Raven, and Jean covered the rear. Erik kept a hand on Charles' lower back, his eyes darting everywhere. Each agent carried a bag, except Alex. They all smooshed into one elevator down to the lobby where two taxis were waiting. Erik, Charles and Jean got into the first one. Scott, Alex, Angel and Raven took the second. No one was thrilled with the setup but it was a short ride to the airport.

They'd only been on the road a couple minutes when Charles said suddenly, "Can we check on the others?"

Jean twisted in the front seat to look at him in surprise. "They're right behind us, Charles. I can see them in the mirror."

Charles wrung his hands together and bit his lip. "I know, but I just…can we make sure?"

Then Erik understood. _Raven._ He tugged his phone out and tapped a number into the screen. Hitting speaker, he held it out for all of them to hear.

Scott asked, "Trouble, Erik?"

Erik shook his head. "No, no trouble. Just checking in."

"We're good. Right behind you." Scott chuckled. "Alex is waving from the front seat."

Erik and Charles both twisted around and sure enough, Alex's arm was waving frantically from side to side. Charles gestured to the phone, as if asking if he could talk. Erik nodded and Charles leaned over, his side pressing against Erik's.

"Raven? Are you okay?"

"Alex won't shut up, but other than that, I'm fine, Charles. Seriously, you need to stop worrying about me and worry about yourself for once."

Erik felt the tension flood out of Charles at his sister's voice. Charles smiled at the phone. "Impossible, my dear sister. I will always worry about you first."

She scoffed, a huff of air through the phone's speakers. "A problem I've been trying to change since I was old enough to realize it was a problem."

Erik cleared his throat before this could enter the siblings' troubled past. Charles looked up at him, his face a little pink.

"I suppose this is where I ask the obligatory, are there yet?" Alex interjected.

There came the sound of something hitting skin. "Dumbass," Scott muttered. "Erik, I just saw a sign for the airport. Should be about ten minutes away."

"Okay," Erik replied. "See you soon." Slipping the phone back into his pocket, he asked Charles, "Feel better?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I just…after everything that's happened, I needed to hear her voice."

Erik nudged his shoulder, "Hey, I get it."

Charles flashed him a quick smile and turned to look out the window.

* * *

Getting inside the airport was easy. All they had to do was flash a badge and everyone got out of their way. They'd attempted a sort of disguise with the Xaviers. Hats and sunglasses, like celebrities wear, plus keeping their heads down helped avoid the facial recognition on the cameras. Flying out of LaGuardia, they didn't really have a problem avoiding notice. Raven watched her brother and Erik as they all made their way down the hall to the jet. As much as she hated to admit it, they did look good together. And the idiotic agent _had_ come back…

At least she wouldn't have to deal with Charles' broken heart anymore.

Angel nudged her shoulder and Raven turned to see what she wanted. Angel whispered, "How much longer do you think Charles will last before he gives in?"

Raven giggled and whispered back, "I give it three days alone with Erik. Once Charles decides on something, he doesn't give up easily."

"Neither does Erik."

"And those two are so in love it's grossing me out."

"Even though they're not actually dating?"

"That's what makes it really gross," Raven said with a grin.

An arm slung itself across Raven's shoulder and she looked to her other side to see Alex. "Whatcha two talking 'bout?" Alex asked, grinning.

The girls exchanged looks and Raven answered brightly, "Ships."

Alex's grin fell a bit. "Ships? Like, what, cruise ships? Motor boats? What?"

They laughed. Angel tilted her head at the guys in front of them, now walking onto the jet. "We're placing bets. How long before the lovebirds get back together?"

"A week."

Raven lifted her eyebrow. "A week? You sound rather confident about that, but I know my big brother. I bet three days."

Angel said, "I'm going to go with five, then."

"Five what?" Erik's voice made them all jump and he smirked.

They scrambled for an acceptable lie. Alex got there first. "Five minutes until you tell us to shut up and sit down."

"Really?" Erik sounded skeptical but gestured for them to come in. "Sit down and shut up."

The three of them scooted past him and settled in the back, Scott plopping down next to his brother with a sigh, his phone in his hands as he typed something.

* * *

Charles fidgeted in his seat. He hadn't been back on this particular plane in years. Since the last family vacation, where he had to share a room with his stepbrother. Maybe it had been a bad idea to offer the jet…

Erik dropped into the seat next to him. "We'll be taking off in a few minutes."

Charles nodded, trying not to think. Cain had sat next to him the last time. _Distraction_. That was what he needed. "You trust the pilot?"

He didn't need to look to know Erik was studying him. After a moment, Erik said, "Yeah. He doesn't know anything past the scheduled flight plan. You okay? You're breathing kinda fast."

Charles nodded. "Fine," he said, forcing a quick smile to his lips. He tugged at the hem of the bulletproof vest.

Erik shifted. "You're not fine, Charles. What is it?"

"It's nothing. I'm fine."

" _Charles_ , I know you better than that." When he didn't respond, Erik lowered his voice. "Are you scared about Shaw? Because it's okay."

Charles shook his head, his eyes closed. Scared, yes. Shaw, not really. Not with Erik here. A hand wrapped around his and squeezed. Erik said softly, "I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"It—I." Charles took a quick breath, squeezing Erik's hand back as it spilled out in a rush. "The last time I was in here, I wasn't able to stand up to my stepbrother. We were on our way to some family vacation, Raven was too young to understand what was going on and I was sharing a bench and a room with him and I couldn't let him touch her. She was barely a teenager and I—I had to—" his voice broke as he felt his eyes burn.

Erik didn't say anything; just pulled his hand free. Charles' eyes flew open in surprise but Erik was already putting an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. Suddenly enveloped in Erik's arms, Charles let himself give in, let the tears out. It was such a relief to let it out, even a little bit. Erik rubbed his back, not saying anything but just…being there. Like he said he would.

There was a sudden roar, followed by a voice saying they were taking off but Charles refused to move and Erik didn't show any signs of wanting to let him go, either. Pressure slammed them back into the seat momentarily and then that same voice said they were okay to move. Charles gave it another minute before pulling back, swiping his sleeve across his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said and sniffed, his gaze going to where his sister sat laughing with the others. "I didn't mean to, to break down like that."

Erik's fingers brushed his cheek, wiping away a tear. Charles finally looked at him, then. Erik's gaze was soft but there was no trace of pity in it. Instead, there was something else, something that made his heart skip a beat. He swallowed and put some space between them. That was twice now he'd let Erik hold him when he would normally have just brushed it off and fallen apart later. How long could Charles maintain the air of hurt and anger before giving in? Erik said softly, "You don't have to apologize for seeking comfort, Charles."

Charles shook his head. He didn't understand. "I've been the primary caregiver for my sister since I was eleven, Erik. I've always been there to comfort Raven, to dry her tears, to give her courage to try new things, to be at her games or plays or awards ceremonies. I was her surrogate parent and I loved it. It's just..." He shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. "I've never…it's never been the other way around, no matter how much Raven likes to think it is. I just keep too many things close to the vest." He flicked one of the buckles, flashing a quick smile.

Erik didn't buy his attempt at a joke. "I'd like to change that, if you'll let me."

 _I know, and I'm not quite ready yet._ Charles studied him for a moment. "You know," he said, "you've changed since we first met. I never would have expected grumpy Agent Lensherr to be such a romantic softy."

Erik rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, well, maybe it just took the right person to bring it out."

Charles pointed at him. "That. That is what I mean." He leaned back against his seat, feeling a lot calmer now. He yawned, tired now that the adrenaline of the trip to the plane had worn off. "I like it, though. I like both sides of you."

"The feeling's mutual."

Charles felt his eyes drift shut as Erik said, "Get some sleep. I'll wake you before we land."


	17. Chapter 17

Getting off was just as easy as getting on. The hard part came when they gathered together in a corner of the airport to say goodbyes. They were waiting for Scott to get off the phone with Director Mason. Scott slid his phone into his pocket and said, "Mason'll let the White House know we're here and I'll email you the schedule once I get it from him, Erik." Erik nodded but Charles gave Scott a confused look. "You'll get tours of the White House, Capitol, FBI, the treasury, stuff like that along with meeting all of the heads and other officials you'll be working with," Scott explained.

Charles nodded, understanding, and they all stood uncomfortably for a minute until Erik said, "We should split up before we hit the taxi service area." Charles' heart sank as his gaze went to his sister. Time to say goodbye. "It's not goodbye," Erik continued and Charles started. _How does Erik always seem to know what I'm thinking?_ "Just a precaution until Shaw's caught."

There was a moment where they all stared at each other and then Raven stepped forward, flinging her arms around Charles. He returned the embrace, holding her tight, his eyes closed. He could hear the agents talking, saying their own temporary farewells, but all he could think was he wouldn't see Raven for a couple weeks.

Raven pulled back to look at him and he felt his own eyes well up when he saw she was fighting back tears. "You be careful, okay? I won't be there to watch out for you."

Charles couldn't help laughing a little. "I should be telling you that. You're the one who's always getting in trouble."

"Yeah, but I'll be able to see the others. You'll just have Erik." Raven bit her lip.

Charles reassured her, "I will be fine, Raven. No one's getting past Erik."

"You're awfully certain of him."

He shrugged lightly. "I may still be hurt and mad at him for leaving but he did come back." He grinned. "And he's apologized, like, five times."

Raven glanced over at Erik, now talking with Scott. "Why did he leave in the first place?"

"He was scared of opening his heart to someone after so long alone."

Raven shot him a knowing look. "Sounds like someone else I know."

He frowned at her. "I know full well I've had issues with relationships in the past but this is different."

"Oh yeah, _so_ different."

"There's no need for sarcasm, Raven. And it is. Erik's not like those other guys. He's…he's real. In a way they weren't. And I trust him." She scoffed and he repeated, "I do. Maybe not with my heart quite yet, but I trust him with my life. And that's enough for now."

"As long as you're sure, Charles."

"I am." Hugging her again, he murmured in her ear, "I'm going to miss you."

Her arms tightened. "I'm going to miss you, too."

A hand dropped onto his shoulder and Charles lifted his gaze to see Erik. He said quietly, "Time to go."

Charles nodded and reluctantly stepped back. "I love you, baby sister. Take care of yourself and listen to Angel.

Raven leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "I will and you be careful." She looked at Erik. "I'm trusting you here, you got that? Keep him safe."

Erik met Charles' eyes and said solemnly, "I will."

"Good." Raven hugged Charles one last time. "I love you, big brother." Then she and Angel walked off.

A moment later, Charles said goodbye to Alex, Scott and Jean, leaving him alone in the airport with Erik, fighting back tears. He sniffed and Erik slid an arm around his shoulders, tucking him against the agent's side. Erik gave him a moment before saying quietly, "Ready?"

"No, but let's go."

* * *

Erik fumbled for his house keys, simultaneously trying to keep an eye on their surroundings while also trying to remember what he'd left the place looking like. Had he cleaned at all in the last couple weeks? Finally getting the key in the lock, he pushed the door open and ushered Charles inside, shutting the door behind him with a click.

"Okay," Erik said as he turned around, "so…yeah. This is my house. It's not big." And not nearly as messy as he'd thought.

Charles turned in a slow circle, looking around. "I like it," Charles said suddenly. "It's you." Charles shot him a quick smile and Erik felt himself relax.

"Thanks, I think." He took a quick breath and moved to dump his bag on the couch. "Sorry about the mess," he muttered.

"Like I'm one to talk about messy homes," Charles said wryly, dropping his bag next to Erik's and peeling his coat off. "Can I take this vest off now? It's quite annoying."

"Yeah, sure, go ahead. You don't have to wear it in here." Erik picked up some dishes and takeout containers and took them into the kitchen. God, the leftovers smelled. He wrinkled his nose as he tossed the containers in the trash can.

"The understanding being that I have to wear it when we leave, yes?" Charles trailed after him, undoing the straps.

"Yeah. It's a—"

"Precaution, I know," Charles finished. "Could you help me with this last one?"

Erik turned around, stepping close to undo the final buckle and lift it over Charles' head. Being this close was intoxicating and yet infuriating because he couldn't do anything about it. He took a steadying breath, tossed the vest with their things and offered, "Want to see the rest of the place?"

Charles was studying him and Erik briefly wondered if his thoughts had shown on his face. Charles stepped aside and gestured. "Lead the way."

"Right, so. Clearly this is the living room. And the kitchen slash dining area." Erik walked down the hall, pointed at a closet. "Storage plus extra towels and blankets if you need them." Continuing, he pointed out the bathroom and finally his bedroom. Charles stepped inside to look around, Erik hovering in the doorway. As Charles ran a hand along the edge of the bed, Erik took a moment to really look at his room. It was surprisingly bare of personal items. Oh, he had a few pictures of his parents on his dresser, some clothes strewn around, but it didn't look as lived in as Charles' had.

It took him a minute to realize Charles had stopped and was watching him from across the room. When Erik looked at him, Charles said slowly, "So…who's sleeping where?"

Erik just stared at him then realized… _oh yeah. One bed and he wants nothing to do with me. Right._ "You sleep in here. I'll take the couch. I've slept on worse."

Charles nodded. "Okay." He hesitated. "Do you mind if I shower? I didn't really get to in the hospital."

He shook his head. "Not at all. You hungry? I could make something or order takeout…"

Charles shrugged. "A little."

"Okay."

The two of them stood there another moment before Charles moved, sliding past him so that their bodies barely touched. Erik waited until Charles had grabbed his bag and closed the bathroom door behind him before heading to the living room and sinking onto the couch. "Oh yeah," he muttered into his hands. "Not awkward at all."

* * *

Charles stepped under the hot water and sighed in relief. Being clean was such a wonderful feeling and it had been several days since he'd felt truly clean. He also needed the time alone to think and adjust to the many changes in the past week. He didn't know how to act around Erik. He needed Moira. She could tell what he wasn't saying and she always knew how to help him. He sighed again. This whole thing had gotten so complicated.

He'd meant what he'd told Raven. He did trust Erik with his life.

His heart on the other hand…

"Ugh," he groaned, leaning against the tile wall. "How did my personal life become such a mess?"

And now he had basically moved in with Erik, was going to be living with him, was going to be sleeping in his bed…albeit without him, so maybe not as uncomfortable as he was thinking.

But still…

He felt drawn to Erik, despite trying to stay aloof. That moment on the airplane was testament to his failure to keep a wall between them.

Charles stepped back under the water, closing his eyes against the heat. He ran his hands through his wet hair, pushing it back out of his face. He needed to focus on his job, on making good impressions. That was all that mattered right now. Erik would do what he needed to to keep Charles safe, and Charles would do what he needed to do for the country.

Friends with Erik, he could do. He had no room in his life for a romantic relationship.

None.

Not even for a devastatingly handsome German Secret Service agent.

* * *

"Mmm, that smells good."

Erik whirled to see Charles leaning on the counter behind him. "I'm making French toast; you want some?"

"Sure," Charles nodded, making his damp hair curl forward over his forehead, his expression neutral.

Erik plopped another piece of bread in the mix, swirled it around and dropped it on the frying pan. He felt a little awkward, cooking with his back to Charles but pushed it aside. "Feel better?"

He could practically hear the other man's shrug. "A little. It's a lot to get used to in so little time."

Erik lifted a slice onto a plate already holding three other slices. Flipping the remaining piece of bread, he took the plate over to the counter. Thankfully he had enough clean dishes to do this. "It'll get easier with time."

Charles said quietly, "Will it? I know I wanted this but am I really ready for it?"

Erik straightened from where he was pulling butter out of the fridge. "Charles, you are more than ready for this. If you're thinking about Shaw, don't. He doesn't matter anymore."

Charles lifted an eyebrow. "Doesn't he? Isn't that why I'm here instead of one of the agency's safe houses?"

Erik tilted his head to the side, setting the butter down. "Point taken. But that's mainly because Shaw's Secret Service. In less than a month, you'll be President and untouchable. Don't worry about Shaw."

Charles forked a piece of French toast onto a plate, not looking at him. "I suppose you're just going to keep repeating the whole 'I believe in you' line, huh."

"Well, since Raven's not around to say it, I figured I would."

Charles rolled his eyes. "Ha ha," he said dryly, taking a bite. His movements were slightly awkward due to his recent injuries but Erik knew better than to offer help unless asked. Instead he just smiled and poured syrup over his food. Quietly, Charles added, "I do appreciate the faith you have in me."

"Not just me. The country believes in you."

"I just hope I can be worthy of their belief."

"You will."

They ate in awkward silence after that, neither quite sure how to act around the other, unsure what to say so they said nothing.

Charles grabbed his bag and retreated to the bedroom after putting his plate in the sink, the _click_ of the door shutting behind him sounding louder than usual. Erik sighed, turning to clean up.

Time.

Charles just needed time. He'd had a lot thrown at him the past week and Erik could understand needing a few days to just let it sink in.

* * *

Charles sat on Erik's bed, his bag resting next to him. He wished he knew what to do. This Erik was so different from the one he'd first met and Charles was falling all over again, loving the soft and sweet side of the normally gruff agent. He slowly lay back on top of the covers, his hands on his stomach.

His world used to be much more orderly. He knew what he wanted to do, he found a way to do it and he succeeded. He was to be the next president and he could make this country a better place for everyone.

Charles smiled to himself. That was the whole reason he'd started running in the first place, his noble reasons. His innocent, naïve, reasons, he realized now. But that was no reason he couldn't still try, right? Politics was where he needed to have his focus now. He would win over every head, every lobbyist, that he needed to to get things done. He was charming, after all.

Feeling a little better about things, Charles set about getting ready for bed.

* * *

The next couple weeks were a whirlwind of tours, parties, dinners, meetings, and endless introductions. Charles was as charming as he could be and people loved him. He'd also gotten a fair few of his issues aired and several congressmen and -women agreed with him. He felt a lot better about the next four years now.

As for Erik…

Well, Charles' walls were shrinking. He found himself struggling for reasons to stay friends, to stay mad at Erik.

But as the days wore on, the inauguration growing nearer, Charles started to think maybe he should give in.


	18. Chapter 18

**Oh man, I know this update is like super duper late but I haven't liked anything I've been writing until just recently.**

* * *

 _Knock knock knock._

The sound of someone rapping on the bedroom door woke Charles from a deep sleep and he rolled over, thinking he'd dreamt the sound.

 _Knock knock._ "Charles!"

"Ngh," he mumbled into the pillow.

 _Knock knock knock knock_. "Charles, either you answer me right now or I'm coming in!"

Charles rolled back over, frowning sleepily at the door. The voice was too high pitched to be Erik's. So then who...?

 _Click_. The door opened and Charles got a split second of yellow before the bed dipped, making him slide toward the center.

Right into his baby sister.

He gaped at her for a minute, his mouth hanging open while she just grinned widely at him, her eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. "Raven…what? How…? You're here?"

"Merry Christmas, Charles!" she squealed, leaning forward to kiss him on the forehead.

He sat up, still staring at her. Then he reached out and pulled her into a hug. "How are you here?"

"Christmas, duh."

" _Raven._ "

Raven pulled back and grinned at him again. "Erik and I planned it. We get the whole day together, to do whatever you want. Within reason, of course, Erik says." She made a face at the limitation.

It was finally starting to sink in that his sister was here and it was a Christmas miracle. He hugged her again. "I love you. Merry Christmas, Raven."

"Love you, too. So…what do you want to do?" She shifted, bouncing on the mattress as she pulled her legs under her. "We could stay in or we could go out. I don't know if you've had enough of the whole political thing yet or not. We could watch movies, or we could play tourist, go shopping and stuff."

Charles thought about it. It would be nice to just curl up on the couch and watch Christmas movies with his sister, like they had when they were kids. On the other hand, he hadn't gotten to see much of Washington, D.C. other than the governmental buildings. "Let's play tourist," he declared and was rewarded with Raven's blinding smile and a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll tell Erik. Now, come on—get dressed!" A second later, she was gone. Charles smiled, shaking his head as he slid out of bed. His sister was quite the bundle of energy.

When Charles finally entered the living room, he was amused to see that Raven had already found the 24/7 marathon of _Elf_ and was subjecting Erik to it. He bit back a laugh as Erik questioned, "So, how did Buddy think he was an elf when he's the same size as Santa, who's clearly human?"

Raven just glared at him. "He grew up in a town full of elves, with an elf for an adopted dad. Of course he thinks he's an elf! Now shush and watch. He goes to New York soon."

Erik rolled his eyes but his lips quirked upwards in the hint of a smile.

"I thought we were going out?" Charles called over to them.

Raven's head whipped around. "We are. But while we were waiting for you, I figured I'd find something Christmas-y to watch. Can you believe Erik's never seen _Elf?_ "

"Considering he's from Germany and Jewish," Charles replied, "yes, I can. You ready?"

She jumped up. "Yup."

Coats on, they opened the door to find Angel on the stoop. She smiled at them. "Merry Christmas, Charles."

"Angel!" he exclaimed, hugging her. "Merry Christmas! It's good to see you, but what are you doing out here in the cold?"

She shrugged as they climbed down the steps. "I don't mind it. I've been in colder temperatures for longer than this. Come on, car's at the curb."

"Car?" Charles stopped as he caught sight of the black town car. How long had they been planning this?

"Come on, Charles! I want to see how D.C. decorates for Christmas." Raven was already in the car, holding the door open for him. "I bet nothing beats the tree at Rockefeller Center."

"Oh, I bet the Capitol's tree could beat it." Erik climbed in after Charles, shutting the door.

Angel sat in the driver's seat and asked, "Where to first?"

Charles and Raven looked at each other, then they both said, "Shopping!"

* * *

Erik trailed along behind the siblings with his hands in his coat pockets. Charles and Raven walked arm in arm along the mall ahead of him, past the Smithsonian. They'd gone shopping, had lunch at a nice little diner, then went around to the museums. Erik had to smile—that was pure Charles. Now they were just strolling, enjoying the evening.

He blinked as something wet hit him in the eye. Looking around, he saw nothing. Another drop of water hit his cheek and Erik looked up.

"Charles," he called.

The siblings stopped and turned to face him, Angel halting too just ahead. "What is it, Erik?" Charles asked, a frown creasing his brow.

Erik tilted his head. "Look up."

Looking confused, Charles and Raven looked up and then a beatific smile crept across Charles' face. Laughing, he said, "It's snowing!"

Raven stuck her tongue out, trying to catch a flake and the three of them laughed as her head bobbed back and forth. The snow fell harder, obscuring the sky, sticking to the ground, to their clothing and hair.

Erik looked back up at the sky only to jerk back as something hit him square in the chest. Charles blinked innocently at him even as Raven sniggered and Angel grinned. He looked down at his coat, now dusted with snow. Erik narrowed his eyes at Charles as Raven dropped to the ground and quickly straightened back up. "You'll pay for that."

Charles said lightly, "I haven't a clue what you're talking about, Erik."

Erik turned, fighting a smile. "Raven, a little help, please?"

She grinned at him. Charles started to say something but Raven just dumped a handful of snow down the back of his coat.

Charles yelped and jumped. "RAVEN!" He shivered. "Damn, that's cold."

"He swears," Angel said, amused.

"Yeah," Raven agreed. "Charles can have quite a dirty mouth when he feels like it. OW!"

Charles shot her a triumphant look. "Payback, sister dear." Erik chuckled at the insulted look on her face. Charles shot him a glare. "And you! Working against me? You wound me."

"You'll survive," Erik smirked and lobbed a handful of snow at him.

One snowball fight on the mall later, and Erik felt lighter than he had in months. They were all sitting on the ground, out of breath, faces red from the exertion and fun. It was probably the most fun Erik had had in years and it felt great. With the snow falling amongst the setting sun, Erik couldn't help but enjoy the moment.

Making a cursory check of the area, he saw Charles watching him, a look on his face that he hadn't had in weeks, that sparkle in his eye that used to be just for Erik. Erik returned the gaze, Charles for once not turning away, and Erik felt in that moment that, somehow, everything was going to be okay.

* * *

Raven hooked an arm through Charles' as they stood on the sidewalk. She leaned over to murmur in his ear, "New York's tree is better."

He chuckled quietly and whispered back, "I quite agree, but we'll let Angel and Erik think they were right, yes?" They exchanged conspiratorial grins and went back to staring at the brightly lit tree on the Capitol's lawn with the other tourists on the sidewalk. Today had been fun but it had also told him he needed to make a decision about his relationship with Erik. They'd been bouncing back and forth for weeks between platonic friends and flirting. Like today, for instance. That snowball fight and the look Erik had given him afterwards. He'd almost forgotten what it had been like to have that look trained on him, warming him inside. Making his heart skip a beat in response.

After a while, Charles was starting to feel the cold despite having his hands tucked in his coat pockets. "I saw a drink cart across the street. I'm going to go get some hot chocolate; want any?"

"Sure. Bring me back a cup?"

"You're going to make me go by myself?"

Raven grinned at him. "Yup. Or you could ask Agent Sexy back there."

Charles felt his cheeks heat and ignored her to turn and walk the few steps to where Erik and Angel stood. He said, "I'm going for hot chocolate across the street. You two want anything?"

Angel nodded, rubbing her hands together. "I wouldn't say no to something warm. Thanks, Charles. Is Raven going with you?"

He shook his head. "No, she opted to stay put." He took a steadying breath and turned to Erik, who had been watching him steadily from the moment Charles had started towards them. Forcing lightness into his voice—he was still coming to terms with his almost decision of giving in—Charles said, "Coming, Erik?"

Erik just turned sideways, gesturing for him to lead the way. He flicked his gaze wordlessly over Charles' head and Angel chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. Raven's not going anywhere," Angel's voice trailed after the pair as they headed for the vendor.

The line was a bit long and Charles hunched his shoulders against the wind that was blowing harder now that he wasn't surrounded by people. Warmth spread along his back and he twisted to find Erik blocking the wind for him.

His heart skipped a beat. "Thanks," Charles said faintly.

Erik smiled down at him. "You're welcome, _liebling._ "

They moved up a spot in line and Charles frowned at the unfamiliar term. Erik hadn't used German around him in a while and it made him wonder why now. Had the normal day—and by normal, Charles meant no politics involved—changed things for Erik? Like it had for Charles? "So…" he began and stopped as he realized he had no idea what to say.

Erik responded anyway. "Which one's better?"

Charles twisted to look up at him again, stepping forward in line as he did so. "I'm sorry?"

"The trees," Erik clarified. "Which one's better: New York or D.C.?"

"Oh." Charles smiled, facing forward. "New York, without a doubt."

"Why?"

"Well because you can actually reach it, rather than see it through a fence, for starters. It's bigger, more of a spectacle, there's an ice rink nearby…a whole host of reasons." The feel of Erik pressed against his back was rather more comforting than he'd imagined and Charles couldn't help but lean into the warmth. He missed New York, sometimes. He did miss teaching but he could always go back when his term was up.

"Maybe you can change that for next year." Erik's breath ghosted across his ear and Charles shivered, not from the wind.

Charles laughed a little. "Yes, that will be the first thing I put on the floor—a law to make a larger, more accessible Christmas tree. That'll go over wonderfully with the other religions." He couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice, faint though it was.

"Always the diplomat," Erik murmured.

"Well, I have to be," Charles replied, a tad defensively, stepping forward again. There were only a few people ahead of them in line now.

" _Ich liebe dich_ ," Erik replied fondly and Charles stopped mid-step, blinking as the words sank in.

He knew that phrase.

Erik had said it before, not just in the hospital, and Charles had finally found the courage to Google it a couple weeks ago. His heart pounding, Charles turned slowly to face Erik.

Erik stared down at him, confused. "Charles?"

This was it, wasn't it? He couldn't pretend anymore that he didn't understand. Couldn't pretend that there was nothing between them when they'd clearly been flirting all day. Erik's feelings apparently hadn't changed in almost two months. If he were being honest with himself, Charles' feelings hadn't changed either, despite how hard he'd tried to deny them.

"What is it?" Erik looked concerned now.

Snow swirled in the space between them. _Now or never_ , Charles thought. "What you said, just a minute ago."

Erik's brow furrowed. "Yes?"

"I know what it means."

Erik's face went blank. "You do?"

Charles nodded.

"You do. I see." Erik ran a hand through his hair, looking up, and Charles swallowed. In some part of his brain, Charles knew they were holding up the line, that people were starting to get annoyed, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from Erik. Didn't want to break the moment or he'd chicken out.

He shifted, drawing Erik's gaze back to him. Charles took a deep breath. "I looked it up after the last time you said it and…I…I've been thinking about it. A lot." Another breath. Why was this so hard? "And…I lo…I feel the same." Damn, he still couldn't say it.

Erik studied him and the person behind him stepped around them, moving up to the vendor, muttering about holding up the line. "You do?"

Charles could hear the hope in his voice and his heart skipped a beat. He nodded, leaning forward slightly. "I do. Erik, I—"

He was cut off by the press of Erik's lips against his. Startled, Charles stood frozen for a moment before his brain restarted. He tilted his head so that their mouths slotted together. Erik's hands brushed against his, slid slowly up his arms, igniting fire with every movement. Charles reached up to press his hands against Erik's chest, to try to feel the muscles he knew were under the coat. Erik's hands pressed against Charles' lower back, moving their bodies so there was no space between them even as Charles' arms slid up and looped around Erik's neck. Time slowed….stopped.

The need for air forced them apart. They stared at each other, their breaths mingling, visible in the cold. Erik leaned forward and kissed Charles on the nose. Charles blushed, making Erik smile and whisper, _"Ich liebe dich_ , Charles."

Adrenaline…hormones…whatever it was that was coursing through his veins, lighting them on fire…Charles finally said it. "I love you, Erik."

Erik kissed him again, gentler this time but the passion was still there, underlying every touch. When he pulled back, Charles leaned forward to rest his head against Erik's chest, felt Erik's heart racing through his coat. Erik wrapped his arms around him and kissed the top of Charles' head, settling his chin there. They stood there for a minute, still completely wrapped up in themselves and this earthshattering moment that had just occurred, oblivious to the world still flowing around them.

A buzzing sound broke the moment and Erik sighed. Said quietly, "That's my phone."

Charles nodded and stepped reluctantly out of Erik's arms. "I'll order the hot chocolate." Erik flashed him a smile as he lifted his phone to his ear. Charles turned to the vendor, only to realize there were two people in line ahead of him. _Good,_ he thought. It gave him time to get control of himself, slow down his racing heart, catch his breath. He smiled suddenly, widely. He couldn't believe he'd just done that, made out with someone in public like that. It wasn't something he usually did but with Erik it just felt so right.

Fingers grabbed his, wrapped around his own, and Charles glanced over to see Erik at his side, talking quietly into the phone so he couldn't hear. Erik squeezed his hand and Charles' heart skipped a beat. He swallowed against the sudden rush of desire.

Raven was going to be saying _I-told-you-so_ forever, Charles was sure.

But as quickly as that thought came, Charles decided he didn't care. He had Erik now and that was enough.

* * *

Erik kept glancing at Charles in his periphery. He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off him for more than a few seconds. That kiss had been something else. He'd never imagined Charles would _actually_ look up what he said in his native tongue. And then to say that he loved him, too…Erik smiled to himself, remembering the feel of Charles' lips against his. It made it hard to focus on what Scott was trying to tell him. Charles was ordering when something Scott said dragged his focus back to the call. "Wait, say that again?"

Scott sighed over the phone. "Jesus, Erik, what is going on with you? For the third time, they want to have Charles' induction ceremony outside, on the mall."

"Where Shaw can have a clean shot at him? Hell no."

"I know. Mason's been trying to get them to change it but he keeps getting stonewalled. I'm not sure there's anything we _can_ do at this point, other than surround him with agents."

Charles slowly approached him, balancing two cups in each hand, his smile fading as he caught the look on Erik's face. _Ficken_ , Erik thought. "Thanks for the heads-up," he said quickly. "I'll call Mason tomorrow, see if I can't help out." He hung up before Scott could say anything else, slid the phone back in his pocket and reached out to take the top cups. "Hey."

Charles frowned up at him. "Is everything all right?"

 _I can't tell him now, not when he's so happy. Tomorrow._ He leaned down to kiss him. "Everything's perfectly fine, Charles."

Charles' mouth twisted and Erik knew he didn't believe it but he apparently did not feel like contesting it. That was a rare event. "Then I think we should grab the girls and find a bench somewhere," Charles said slowly.

"Works for me." They made their way back across the street, through the crowd to Angel and Raven. "Let's go find a place without people."

Angel laughed. "I'm sure there's a park somewhere we can sit."

As they walked, Charles sidled up next to him, not quite touching. Erik switched his cup to his left hand. Reaching down with his right, he linked their fingers together. Charles' eyes flicked up to him, his tongue flitting out to wet his lips and Erik almost pushed him against the wall right then.

Instead, he swallowed his desire with some hot chocolate and tightened his grip on Charles' hand. He couldn't wait until they could get home and ditch the girls.


	19. Chapter 19

The mood in the back of the car was stifling. Raven had taken the passenger seat next to Angel, leaving Erik and Charles the back. Every touch, every glance, was charged. Erik felt like a horny teenager, unable to wait until his parents were out of sight before he started making out with his boyfriend.

It didn't help that Angel and Raven clearly knew something was different. There was a lot of hushed talking and giggling.

"How much do you want to bet they know and have already told Scott and Alex?" Charles murmured, leaning over so that his shoulder pressed against Erik's, a hand resting on Erik's thigh for balance.

Erik huffed a laugh, leaning over to mutter back, "I would lose that bet in a heartbeat, I'm sure. The way these two talk, I'm surprised the whole country doesn't know yet."

Charles chuckled, his eyes sparkling as they met Erik's. "Raven has always had a big mouth. Befriending Angel hasn't helped."

"Throw in Alex and I think we're screwed."

"Hmm, perhaps I should rethink my decision to have them as part of my official detail," Charles mused, a hint of laughter in his voice. "It might interfere with...certain things." His eyes flicked towards the girls then back.

Certain things? So he felt the tension too. Erik kissed him on the nose, enjoying the sudden blush. In as low a voice as he could manage, he said, "No way in hell are they interfering with certain _things_. They know I'll kill them."

Charles stared at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. "I should find that worrying but I think it's more worrying that I'm finding that a turn on."

"Screw it," he growled. Even as Charles shot him a questioning look, Erik called, "How much longer, Angel?"

Giggling. Lots of it. "Five minutes. I've been taking the shortest routes." More giggling.

Charles shifted so that their bodies were completely pressed together along the side. He looked up, licked his lips and said softly, "Good."

 _Gottverdammt, Ich will ihn küssen._ (Translation: _Goddammit, I want to kiss him._ )

* * *

When the car pulled up to the curb, Erik hardly gave them enough time to say good night to the girls before he and Charles were entering his house. He pushed Charles against the wall, kissing him even as he reached back to kick the door shut. When Erik pulled back for a moment, Charles started to unbutton Erik's coat.

Soon, both their outer winter clothing lay balled up on the couch and they were pressed against the wall, hands wandering. Erik pulled Charles' shirt out of his waistband, wanting desperately to feel his skin. Charles shivered at his touch.

It was only when Erik realized their shirts were on the ground that he thought maybe this was going too fast and he took a step back, putting space between them. Charles tried to follow but Erik put a hand against his chest—heaving, like his own. He shook his head. "Wait."

Charles frowned. "What for?"

"I just…" _Ich will das. Aber ich will ihn nicht zu drücken. Werden wir zu schnell? Würde er mir sagen, ob es zu schnell war? Wie kann ich gragen, ohne ihn zu verletzen? (_ translation: I want this. But I don't want to push him. Are we going too fast? Would he tell me if it was too fast? How do I ask without hurting him?). He couldn't lose Charles, not again. He wasn't sure he'd survive it.

"Erik? What is it?"

Erik took a breath, looked Charles in the eye and asked simply, "Are you sure?"

It took a second for Charles to parse his meaning but then he smiled softly. "Oh, Erik. I've never been more sure."

That was all the answer Erik needed, tugging Charles into the bedroom and pulling him down onto the mattress.

* * *

Charles woke slowly, the remnants of a wonderful dream lending themselves to a reluctance to open his eyes. He shifted slightly and his elbow hit something.

Some _one_?

Charles twisted to his other side and couldn't help the huge smile that spread across his face at the sight of Erik, fast asleep next to him. Erik's hair had flopped into his face and he looked so relaxed, so peaceful, that Charles just stared at him, enjoying the moment. It wasn't often he woke before the agent.

It wasn't long after that that Erik stirred, his body stiffening then his eyes opened, locking onto Charles' as if he'd known Charles had been staring.

"Morning," Charles said softly.

Erik smiled and replied softly, "Morning to you, too."

Then it hit him. His dream? Hadn't been a dream. He'd really had sex with Erik.

Erik kissed him, taking him by surprise, but he returned it almost immediately, tucking his head against Erik's chest after.

"Should've known you'd be a cuddler," Erik murmured into his hair. Charles huffed but there was no real feeling to it.

"Mmm, this is nice," Charles said after a minute.

Erik agreed. "But we do have things to do."

"It's the day after Christmas. Can't things wait a day?"

Erik put a finger under his chin, tilting his head back for another kiss. "I do have a phone call to make but you are more than welcome to stay in bed while I do."

Charles made a face, but rolled onto his back, letting Erik slide out from under the covers. His gaze followed the agent as he bent over to pick something up—his pants. Charles smirked. "You know, I could get used to this view."

Erik shot him a heated look. "Oh, really?" Charles raised an eyebrow and stretched, inviting Erik to follow through on the suggestion. Erik came over, bent over to kiss him. "Tease," he murmured against Charles' lips, "but I do have to make a call. Later. Promise."

"I'm holding you to that," Charles called as Erik left the room, clothes in hand.

He settled back against the pillows, thinking. Last night had been amazing. A true Christmas miracle, despite the fact that Erik was Jewish. A Hanukah miracle? Was there such a thing?

He laughed to himself. He and Erik had just made love, spent the night officially together, and he was wondering about holiday traditions? It was funny, that that was his first thought. He had a sudden flash of want that had nothing to do with sex. He wanted Erik, in his life, forever and always. Charles wanted Erik's gruffness, his bossiness, his dry wit, his walls, his past, his strength, his future…

Charles lounged in bed for a few more minutes, before the cold starting to reach him now that Erik had left. Reluctantly, he slid out of bed, grabbed a pair of pajama pants from his things and pulled them on before making his way down the hall.

Tea.

He needed tea.

Entering the kitchen, he heard Erik talking and debated briefly with eavesdropping. Shrugging, he decided that if he needed to know, Erik would tell him. He hadn't sugarcoated anything yet. After some rummaging and a few minutes wait, Charles had a steaming cup of tea in his hands and the Keurig puttering along as it made Erik's coffee.

Erik walked into the kitchen a couple minutes later, gloriously bare-chested, and smiled as Charles handed him another steaming mug. "Thanks," Erik whispered, then, to the phone, "There has to be a way to change their minds about this."

Charles shot him a questioning look over the rim of his own mug.

"Mason, come on. You know as well as I do that this is a horrible idea." Erik sipped his coffee, leaning his back against the bar. "He'd basically be bait, standing up there."

Bait? Okay, this was sounding more like something he needed to know. "Erik," he whispered. "Is this about me?"

Erik kissed his cheek. "In a sec, babe. So they're just going to go through with this, without asking him and ignoring our input. Am I getting this right?" He sounded pissed. Erik sighed. "Great. Well, I'll do what I can. 'Bye." Erik hung up, set the phone on the counter and ran a hand distractedly through his hair.

"So…?"

"You remember that call I got last night, while we were in line for cocoa?" When Charles nodded, Erik continued, "That was Scott, letting me know the final location for your swearing-in ceremony." He hesitated a moment before continuing, a clear enough reaction to Charles that Erik did not like it, and Charles tensed. "On the mall, at a podium on a makeshift stage."

Well, that didn't sound _too_ bad. Charles said slowly, "But don't they usually take place on the balcony of the White House?"

"Usually, yes. Apparently they've changed their minds for this one."

"Okay, so, fill in the details. Why is this bad?"

"Because they're basically using you as bait to lure Shaw out." Erik's voice was tight with anger at those who made the decision.

Out on the mall.

Bait.

Lure Shaw…out.

Oh

Oh shit.

Shit. The stage…would be open to the crowds. Security couldn't screen them all and he'd be in full view, vulnerable.

Charles felt the color drain from his face. Erik immediately set both their mugs on the counter and pulled Charles close. "It's going to be okay. Shaw might not try anything." But Charles could tell he didn't really believe it. Erik's lips pressed against the top of his head and Charles drew comfort from the tightness of Erik's embrace.

Was anything going to come easily for them?

On the other hand…what if they could finally catch Shaw? That would solve a whole bunch of problems.

After a while, Charles asked, "Can we just stay here? In your house?"

Erik tilted his head up for a kiss. "I wish we could. But you have responsibilities that I would not dream of keeping you from, no matter how much I want to. I will not let anything happen to you, that's a promise, Charles."

Now _that_ , Charles believed. He kissed Erik then headed to shower and get ready for the day.

* * *

"I'm not wearing it! You can see it under my shirt!"

"You are not leaving this house without it!"

Charles and Erik stood in the middle of the living room, arguing. In the back of his mind, Charles knew it was a stupid argument but it served as a distraction from the events due to happen tomorrow. He scowled at Erik, hands on his hips, and repeated, "I'm not wearing the vest, Erik."

Erik scowled right back at him and retorted, "I am in charge of your safety tomorrow and you _are_ wearing it, Charles."

"Am not. There's no need and it'll be far too obvious. If we're trying to draw Shaw out—" Erik tried to interrupt but Charles rolled right over him—"which we _are_ , then he needs to think I'm vulnerable and easy to get to. We have had this discussion before and you agreed that me playing bait is necessary."

"Which is exactly what I don't like about this whole thing." Erik sighed, his shoulders drooping. His voice softened, turned slightly pleading. "Damn it, Charles, please just wear the vest."

Charles softened his own voice. "Erik, I'm sorry, but no. I know you're worried about me and I appreciate it but we have to catch Shaw and this is our last chance. He'll be vulnerable, too, trying to get to me."

"Which could be from a distance with a sniper rifle, so you should be wearing the vest," Erik tried again.

"And if he aims for my head? What good will a bulletproof vest do then, hmm?" Charles lifted an eyebrow. Erik ran a hand through his hair, a sign that he didn't know what to do. Charles relented, crossing the room to wrap his arms around the agent, leaning up to kiss him briefly. "I understand your feelings on the matter, but I cannot do as you ask. Wearing a bulletproof vest on the day I take the oath—a very visible vest, under a dress shirt—is a sign that I'm giving in to fear. That's not how I want to start my term. This is Shaw's last chance, I understand that, as well, which will make him desperate and want to act up close rather than far away. When he does, you will be there. That I know for sure."

Erik smiled faintly down at him. "You have a way with words, Charles." He sighed lightly. "Fine. No vest. You win. This one."

Charles grinned and kissed him. "You can always give it to Raven."

"And listen to her grumble about how she can't wear a dress with it? No, thanks." They both laughed and just like that, the tension in the room was gone. Erik dropped onto the couch, tugged Charles down after him and asked, "Want to run through the oath again?"

"Sure. One more time couldn't hurt." Honestly, Charles was more afraid of forgetting the words than of Shaw trying to hurt him. He snuggled in against Erik's chest, feeling that warmth in his chest that was always present when he thought of Erik. Erik's arm wrapped around his shoulders and he started, "I, Charles Francis Xavier, do solemnly swear…"

* * *

"…that I will faithfully execute…"

Charles stood on the outdoor stage, in one of the nicest suits he'd ever worn in his life, and faced the judge. The podium and the crowd were on his right. His right hand rested lightly and yet heavily on the Bible the judge held, as he faithfully repeated the oath of office, phrase by phrase. His heart was pounding, both with the seriousness and the weight of the moment but also wondering where Shaw was, if he would act. Surrounding them—but not blocking the crowd's view—were his new and increased security detail as well as members of the White House staff—now his—and an honor guard from the military holding the colors.

There was a faint ripple of movement in the crowd up front, but no one paid it any mind. Charles repeated after the judge, his voice echoing thanks to the microphone on the podium, "the office of President of the United States…"

Someone in the crowd made a noise. A cry went up, wordless.

Charles started to turn towards the crowd, the words dying on his lips as he saw the podium start to tip towards him. His hand slid off the Bible as he took a step back to avoid being hit.

Then he saw the person shoving it. Charles gasped, "Shaw!" and took another step back, the color fading from his face. _He's actually here. Oh my god._

A hand wrapped itself around his upper arm and yanked him stumbling backwards. _Erik_ , he thought in a rush of relief. Erik was the only one who would—and had in past—grab him like that.

Shaw lunged forward, reaching for him, metal flashing in the sunlight, with a manic expression on his face.

There came the sound of cloth ripping.

Charles found himself pressed against Erik's chest as the other agents surrounded the pair in a circle. Ignoring the commotion, Erik tilted Charles' head up and asked urgently, "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Charles shook his head, unsure and a bit shaken. Erik's hands roamed his body, checking for injuries. Pain flared along his right side and he gasped in pain and surprise, his hands gripping Erik's shirt tightly. Erik swore and pushed Charles' suit jacket aside, mentally shoving his worry to the back of his mind to focus on the wound. A line of blood stood out starkly against the white dress shirt.

His chest tight with concern, Erik snapped, "Somebody get me a bandage!" His hands, though, were gentle as they tugged Charles' shirt out of his waistband and up. Charles' hands tightened and Erik heard the reflexive intake of breath as the cloth rubbed against the wound. "Hang on," Erik murmured.

Alex's voice came from Erik's left and he turned to see the young man holding out gauze and a roll of bandaging. Erik took a piece of gauze first, using it to gently but quickly wipe some of the blood away so he could get a good look. More blood instantly welled up but a sense of relief hit him and he announced, "It's shallow."

The tension in the group dropped in response to the information. The tight band around his own chest loosened in relief. Erik stuffed the used gauze into his coat pocket—Charles made a disgusted noise, which he ignored—and grabbed another piece from Alex, pressing it tight against the wound. Together, Alex and Erik wrapped the bandaging around Charles' stomach.

Done, Alex slipped back into the circle, leaving the two of them alone and out of sight for a moment. Erik pressed his lips to Charles' forehead and murmured, "I'm going to wrap you in bubble wrap so you stop getting injured."

Charles chuckled a little. "Kinky."

"For the record, I was right. You should have worn the vest."

"For the record," Charles grinned, "I was right, too."

Erik looked around. Shaw was being hauled off the stage by a couple of marines, shouting obscenities and threats. _Good,_ he thought. Shaw wouldn't be able to hurt anyone from jail. Thus satisfied that no one was watching, Erik stole a kiss. Charles returned it enthusiastically before pulling away with a smile.

Erik let him go and Charles slipped through the circle of agents and back to the now upright podium. He smiled and waved at the crowd. He leaned over and said brightly into the microphone, "That's something you'll be able to tell your children when they read about it in history books one day. You can tell them you were there when it happened!" The mood changed immediately, lightening as the people out on the lawn laughed. Erik smiled; he really was very good with people.

The judge stepped back up, held out the Bible with a smile. "Do you want to start over or shall we just continue where we left off?"

Charles rested his right hand on the Bible and smiled. "Let's start over, shall we? Make sure it took."

More laughter but the judge started up, "Repeat after me: I, Charles Francis Xavier…"

Charles did not miss one word in the whole oath of office: _I, Charles Francis Xavier, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States._

As applause broke out upon completion of the last word, Charles glanced over his shoulder, his gaze meeting Erik's, and he smiled. Erik smiled back, pride and love for Charles filling him.

Both Charles and Erik had the same thought in that moment—that they were the luckiest person in the world and they could do anything, so long as they were together.

After all, they did both want the same thing, in the end.

The End.

* * *

 **Thank you so so much, everyone, for reading and favoriting/following and just generally liking my story! It's always so nervewracking to post my fanfics and subject them to opinions besides my own and my sister's. I love all of you for reading this.**

 **It's taken quite a bit longer than I'd imagined to finish and there have been a few twists along the way that I did not foresee. I hope the ending was satisfying.**

 **I'm toying with a sequel idea but for now I'm just going to leave Charles and Erik happy and starting their four years in the White House together.**

 **Also, I apologize to anyone out there who can speak German. I know there are some mistakes but I don't speak it at all and I used Google Translate for it, which is why I put the translation I had intended it to be in parentheses after the German sentence. Hopefully it didn't ruin the reading.**

 **Again, thank you!**

 **Brisingr364**


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